Emory Adelaide and the Battle of Bloor's Academy
by milkshakebubblebath
Summary: There's a new girl at Bloor's Academy. Emory Adelaide has to decide who to trust, and quick... battle lines are being drawn, and Emory and her friends will be on the front line... Please R&R, and enjoy! I OWN NOTHING! milkshake x *COMPLTETE! 18.09.13*
1. Chapter 1

**Emory Adelaide**** and the Battle of Bloor's Academy**

**Chapter 1**

Emory Adelaide stared out of the car window at the bleak and miserable city streets. The rain was pouring steadily down, whilst thunder growled like a prowling lion outside. The only thing remotely interesting was the fact that some of the lampposts seemed to be missing light bulbs, and that the glass surrounding them was smashed. _Typical, _Emory thought. _Vandals_.

Emory sighed as the car continued to make its way to the famed Bloor's Academy. Suddenly, without warning, the radio came on full blast- Emory blocked her ears, the song being _Time Warp _from the musical, _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_.

"Shut it off!" cried Emory, and her mother in the passenger seat leaned forward and turned the dial right down, subsequently turning the radio off. She looked around at her daughter who sat in the back of the car, still cringing from the, "_Let's do, the Time Warp, again!_" That look soon changed to one of guilt though, as Emory knew whose fault it really was.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "I'm just nervous, I guess." Mrs Adelaide's look softened.

"I know darling. But you know why we had to do this, don't you? That school was on the verge of expelling you- I mean, being the only endowed one there must have been pretty tough, but even they were fed up with the constant flickering of the lights and the TVs turning on and off all the time."

"I know, mum," sighed Emory. "It's just kind of hard to control, sometimes."

"And that's why we're sending you to Bloor's. There are lots of others who are endowed there, and you can learn to control your talent."

"I hope so. Besides, boarding school sounds like fun." Emory sat up a little and her face brightened. She was never one to be a downer for long. "Lots of new friends, plenty of opportunities to do new things, even a bit of exploring- I hear the school grounds has creepy castle ruins," she grinned.

"Good. But keep yourself out of mischief, though. Don't go getting in with the wrong crowd- you're a good girl, Emory, and have a knack for choosing the right people- but all the same, be careful. Your father went there and he knew there to be several unsavoury characters around- Dr Bloor, himself, for instance."

At this, Mr Adelaide permitted himself a quick glance behind at his daughter before turning back to the wheel, and then looking back in the rear-view mirror.

"Your mother's right, Emory," he said. "Dr Bloor was pretty vicious- which is why, even though it's the best thing for you, I'm still a little apprehensive at sending you here and leaving you in the care of said person. Just, keep your nose clean and stay out of his way as much as possible- I hear he has a son- Michael, or something, and if he's a Bloor, he's likely to be just like his father. So, watch out."

Emory nodded. "I will. I'll be fine, honest! And anyway, why would he want to do anything to me? For a start, you're one of the most influential people in the country. He'd have you to answer to if he tried anything."

"That as may be," agreed Mr Adelaide, "but you're one of the endowed. As far as I know, Dr Bloor is very proud of his 'collection', as he calls it, and he's had more than his fair share of trouble at this school."

"Dad, it'll be fine, I swear," Emory reassured her father. "I can take care of myself, trust me. Anyway, I'll be as good as gold, and not tell a soul about my endowment."

Mr Adelaide grimaced. "Yeah, about that- Dr Bloor knows you're endowed."

"What?"

"Yes, when we phoned to ask about a placement for this term, he asked whether you were endowed- and we couldn't lie, to be honest. But on the bright side, he doesn't know _what_ you can do," he said, turning to look at his daughter, who looked slightly crestfallen. But not for long.

"Ah well, they won't get it out of me in a hurry, that's for sure. And anyway, it's none of their business what I can do."

"Ata girl!" said Mr Adelaide. He glanced at the Sat-Nav. "Goodness, one more corner and we're there. Now, are you sure you've got everything?"

"Yes, dad."

"Clothes, money, books, ipod, phone, pencil case-?"

"_Yes_, dad." Emory turned to look back out of the window, and gasped. Bloor's was _huge_! It towered above any normal building- she was surprised she had never noticed it as they drove through the streets. It surpassed all normal buildings in height and grandeur- except, perhaps, the cathedral.

Tall and imposing, it thrilled Emory to the core as she looked at her new home. "I can't wait to explore!" she exclaimed. They drove through the wrought iron gates, across a cobbled courtyard, and then stopped outside the daunting, but grand, oak front doors.

Putting her hood up with grim determination, Emory leapt out of the car and ran to the boot, where she began grabbing at her luggage with a quickness that not many people possess, and then lugged it to the front doors. In the meantime, her parents had clambered out of the Ford Mondeo and stood with her on the steps. Emory pulled the thick rope cord hanging from- actually, she couldn't tell where, as the rain came down so hard she couldn't see much. From deep inside the Academy, a bell boomed. Turning to face her parents one last time, she gave them both hugs and kisses and told her mum not to cry- (despite the rain, Emory could tell).

Her father, being slightly less sentimental, finished with a, "Take care- and if they give you any grief, we're only a phone call away."

"I know. I love you! Bye!" Emory waved until the car was out of sight.

"_Ahem_." The sudden voice behind her made her jump, and turning around she was face with a rather grumpy looking man holding a lantern. She assumed he was the caretaker, as his next words were, "I take it you are the expected Miss Adelaide?"

"Yes, yes, I am. Pleased to meet you." And she held out a hand. The caretaker simply sneered at it before ushering her inside with a, "This way, if you please, we haven't got all night," and then brought in her luggage before shutting the door with a creaking and groaning that echoed around the whole building.

"Wow," breathed Emory, as, even in the dim light, she could tell that this entrance hall was a sight to behold. She turned around, staring at what she could make out. The grand staircase being the centrepiece, with various doors leading left and right out of the hall- to classrooms, she presumed, as she continued to be lead through the building. Finally, the caretaker took her up a solid wood staircase- and the entire atmosphere changed. Before, there was a sense of enormity and grandeur, but this was transferred in one swift motion to an atmosphere of stuffiness and stifling heat. The corridors were narrower, and a faded but impressive carpet lined the hallway. The smell was heavy; one of candle wax. The gas lamps on the walls were dim and flickered every so often; Emory sighed with relief. _At least I can't do anything with fire_, she thought.

Eventually, they reached a large door that was different to all the others. It was black, with a brass handle shaped like a claw. Towards the bottom of the door, Emory noted sharp, deep score lines marked into the wood. But before she had time to get any more curious, the caretaker had knocked at the door and a hoarse voice called,

"Enter!"

The caretaker took the handle and the door creaked open to reveal a huge room. A bright glow came from the stone fireplace at the end of the room and Emory had to shield her eyes slightly at the sudden brightness; this was evidently where all the heat was coming from. A large table stood in the centre surrounded by four chairs, and the spread laid on top was marvellous; pies, roast meats, vegetables, sauces and gravies, and every type of spice and condiment you could imagine.

But what made Emory stifle her gasp was who was already seated within the room. Sitting around an electric heater were four chairs; one with a very high back in which was sitting a man with an iron-grey moustache. He was sitting upright, next to another chair which was nowhere near as fancy. The person who occupied it was a boy? No, a man. Emory couldn't make up her mind; the flickering shadows coming from the fire were confusing her. From what she could see, he was tall, with long, black hair drawn back in a pony tail. She would have laughed, but knowing she would probably be on the other side of the door if she did, turned her quick eyes to the woman sat next to him. This lady was quite old; maybe in her late sixties. She sat on a chair similar to the latter, but wore an apron. Her gaze was cold as steel, and Emory quickly moved on to the fourth and final person, who was sitting in a wheelchair. And immediately wished she hadn't.

He was old; _too old_, she thought. His skin was taught over his skull-like face; thin wisps of white, greasy hair straggled over the sides of his head, the top of which was hidden with a woollen cap (for this, Emory was grateful). But what scared her most about this ancient man were his eyes. Rather than being dull and lifeless as you'd expect, they were bright and shiny. But not in a good way. More like a, _"All the better to __eat__ you with"_ kind of way. His mouth was contorted in an odd fashion. _He must think he's smiling_, thought Emory with a grimace. On the one occasion where words failed her, all she could do was return the stares with a small smile.

The _very _old man glanced behind her. "You may go, Weedon," he said in a rasping voice. There was no doubt as to who had given permission to enter. The voice made her shudder.

"Very well, Mr Bloor, sir," said the caretaker. This voice made Emory shudder too, but only because it sounded as greasy as the candle wax which gave the place its smell.

The door gave an ominous _click! _behind her, and Emory was alone with the four most sinister-looking people she had ever encountered.

"Well, well, my dear, you can't stand there forever," said the skeleton. "Come into the light so we can get a closer look at you."

_What light? _The question crossed Emory's mind as she made her way reluctantly toward the flickering lamp on the wall, and towards the four scariest people that probably existed.

Now she was standing closer, she could get a better look at the male who sat in the wooden chair. She decided to define him as 'young man' until further notice. There was not much else to tell, except his eyes: they had a slight red glint about them, a glint that told of perilous danger if she got too close. But she found she couldn't tear her gaze away. Her mind started going blank, until a _crack! _brought her sharply to attention.

The moustache-man had leapt up and was bearing down upon the electric heater.

"What happened?" asked Mr Bloor.

"I've no idea, grandfather," replied the first man, who was now checking the heater. "It shouldn't have done that- it was new last week!"

Emory glanced cautiously back at the young man. He was looking at her, but avoiding her eyes. A small smirk was playing around his lips. Suddenly, she was jolted back to the conversation she had had with her father only minutes before. _"I hear he has a son- Michael, or something, and if he's a Bloor, he's likely to be just like his father. So, watch out." _

_This must be who he was talking about_, she determined. _I'd better be on my guard around him_.

In the meantime, the heater predicament had been resolved, and Dr Bloor (at least, that's who Emory assumed he was) had taken his seat once again in the high-backed chair. With a jolt, she realised that the heater incident was probably her fault. _It was him. That weird feeling I got when I looked in his eyes- I must have panicked. But I can't slip up again. They'll guess._ She silently resolved to be more careful around these people. They may run the school, but they were not to be trusted. Not in a million years.

"So," chuckled Mr Bloor. "Introductions. I am Mr Ezekiel Bloor. This-" he said, pointing at moustache-man "-is Dr Bloor- the headmaster of Bloor's Academy. This-" he continued by pointing at the young man with the strange eyes "-is Manfred Bloor- my great-grandson and Head Boy here at the Academy, and finally-" Emory turned her attentions back to the eagle-eyed woman "- this is Matron Yewbeam. It goes without saying that she is the matron here, to make sure that you behave yourself. And to dish out the repercussions if you don't," he added with a slightly more sinister tone in his voice. Emory got the message loud and clear: don't mess with us. We can make your life hell if you do.

"Well, I think you ought to introduce yourself," said Dr Bloor. He stood up and held out his hand. Emory shook it.

"I'm Emory," she said quietly.

"Emory, eh? Lovely name, that," said Mr Bloor. But he didn't sound like he meant it. "Come now, enough chit-chat. Let's eat. Show Emory to the table, Manfred."

Manfred stood up slowly and deliberately, so Emory could get a good, long look at his intimidating height.

"Of course, great-grandfather," he smirked, and led Emory to the seat next to the head of the table. He took the seat opposite her, allowing Dr Bloor to guide Matron Yewbeam to her seat (next to Emory), before heading back to where his grandfather was. He then wheeled Mr Bloor to the head of the table, in between Emory and Manfred, before taking the only seat left- beside his son.

"Well, tuck in!" announced Ezekiel, and he picked up the nearest dish (a plate of roast chicken) and took a few forkfuls. Gradually, everyone else took the hint and began serving themselves.

Although the spread looked marvellous, Emory could only manage very little. Her stomach was churning; she desperately wanted to be out of the heat, she didn't like the company she was sat with and the guy who sat opposite her was unnerving her. She could feel his eyes boring into her face, but she refused with solid determination to look at him, though it was getting harder and harder to resist.

"So," began Ezekiel, in between loud mouthfuls, "your father and Dr Bloor didn't get to talk much on the phone. Tell us a little about yourself."

"Well," Emory began cautiously, "I spent most of my life in the countryside. My parents owned a large house, what with my father being who he is, and I attended a normal secondary school up until now. My parents are moving to Scotland for business reasons. But we have friends who live near... is it The Heights?"

"Oh, you mean Storm Hill?" asked Dr Bloor. When Emory looked confused, he explained. "Storm Hill is a little joke we have here. One of the endowed- Tancred Torrson- lives there and he can control the weather. Or rather, conjure storms out of thin air. You'll meet him when you start on Monday."

"What's your endowment, if I may be so bold?" enquired Ezekiel. Emory snapped her head back to him and blanched. He had leaned forward and his eyes gleamed brighter than ever.

"Oh, um, err, I'd rather not say, if that's okay," she stuttered.

"That's alright, dear," said Ezekiel in what he probably thought was reassuring tone, "we'll get it out of you eventually."

"What?" Emory stared.

"Ah, ahem, what I mean is, I'm sure you'll tell us eventually," stammered Ezekiel. His pale white skin had gone slightly pink, and the sideways glance he gave to Manfred did not go unnoticed by Emory.

The meal continued to pass in uncomfortable silence. In an effort to direct her thoughts away from the unpleasant company and her back-flipping stomach, Emory decided to study the room she was in a bit more. A few paintings lined the walls; grim, sinister looking men and women (_Probably ancestors_, she thought); all except for one. The painting in particular was of a woman; standing behind her was clearly a younger Dr Bloor and sitting beside her on the chaise long was unmistakably a six or seven year old Manfred.

_So, there was- or is- a Mrs Bloor_. Emory frowned as she tried to take it in; the thought of Manfred having a mother was beyond her.

Manfred caught her frown and twisted in his seat to see what she was looking at. When he saw it was the painting, he swivelled back around in his seat and gave her foot a nudge under the table. Emory jumped in shock, and as she jolted to see what had got her, the old record player in the corner of the room began playing.

"What the-" Dr Bloor jumped up and strode across the room to shut it off. "Darned contraption," he muttered. "What's going on?"

Having regained his seat, Emory blushed. Suddenly she was grateful for the dim light in the room- her pale skin made it easy for anyone to see when she was flustered. But, no one seemed to notice and the rest of the meal passed in more or less the same way as it had before.

But this time, Emory was careful not to look at the paintings- and Manfred seemed to increase the intensity of his stare.

Eventually, a clock somewhere chimed nine o' clock, and with a clap of his hands, Ezekiel brought everyone to attention.

"Well, that was pleasant, was it not?" he asked with a false cheeriness. _If that's your definition of pleasant, I'd hate to see you do uncomfortable_, Emory thought. "I believe Emory would like to see her room, right, Matron?"

"Of course, Mr Bloor. Come along."

Emory rose from her seat and followed the austere woman towards the door.

"Oh, and one last thing, Emory," added Ezekiel. "This was a one-off meal. If I catch you in these corridors again without my permission, it won't be Matron who'll deal with you. It'll be me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mr Bloor, sir," Emory replied. And with that rather forebodingfarewell, she left the room.

Matron strode swiftly down the plush-carpeted corridors and eventually descended the staircase that took her back to the main school. What had once felt cool before, now felt freezing cold, and Emory wrapped her arms around herself as she descended quickly. The school was quite dark, and it would have been very easy to lose Matron in the half light. And as exciting as it would have been to be lost in the exciting and mysterious building that was now her home, Emory was cold and tired and wanted nothing more than to turn into a nice warm bed.

Unfortunately for her, that wasn't going to happen. After climbing the grand staircase in the main hall, and following Matron Yewbeam through more twisting and turning halls, they reached the girls' dormitory. Matron opened the room and switched on the light. It was a typical boarding school style dormitory. Four beds down one side; four beds down the other. Emory saw her luggage had already been placed down the far end of the room, at a bed next to the window. Matron pointed out the bathroom and gave Emory a briefing on the rules.

"When I say lights out, I mean it. Silence after nine o' clock. If I see a light on or hear any noise during the night, there will be repercussions. Understand? Morning bell is at 7 o' clock. You will be down in the dining room for eight o' clock. And if you are not there on time, you go hungry." Emory just stood there and took it all in. _Wow. Things are harsh here._

"Have a pleasant night," finished Matron with a grimace. "I will be back in half an hour to check on you."

And with that, she left the room. Emory made a face at the closed door. "Stupid bossy boots," she muttered, before turning and sitting down on her bed. It was a full moon that night, and it bathed the grounds in its ghostly glow. From her position, Emory could see the "creepy castle ruins" as she had put it. They were huge! She could also see the stretch of the city behind. The lights twinkled and glowed.

"Well, I guess it won't be so bad here," she whispered. "With a view like this every night, I could get used to this." She unpacked a few things; her pyjamas, wash things, one or two books, a torch and finally, a picture of her parents outside their house. Emory sighed and went to get washed.

As she brushed her teeth, she thought back over the dinner she had just had and the people she had met. _Doesn't anyone nice run this place?_ she wondered. But she knew that she would have to be on her guard constantly if she was to hide her endowment from that lot.

She returned to the dormitory and clambered into bed. The sheets were thin, the mattress lumpy and the pillows uncomfortable, but she made the best of it and twisted herself so she was facing out of the window. Staring at the city below her, she wished more than anything that she would survive here. Eventually, despite a combination of an empty stomach and a freezing cold room, her eyelids drooped shut.

The instant she was asleep, there was a small click. The only light that penetrated the room now was from the moon, smiling down on the girl that was going to turn Bloor's Academy upside down.

**Hey guys! My second fanfic has begun- but this is the first time I've done ****something with Charlie Bone. I hope you enjoy it; please R&R, constructive criticism is welcome. This will be very slow to update, as it will be novel length, and college work is really getting to me **** Ah well, I will do my best! milkshake x**

**P.S. If anyone would like to beta this for me, I would be most grateful. Just drop me a hint via reviewing or inbox me. Merci beaucoup in advance!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Emory Adelaide and the Battle of Bloor's Academy**

**Chapter 2**

Sunlight streamed in through the windows of Bloor's Academy. Most of the inhabitants slept on- the only people up and about were the staff.

Emory rolled over on the bulgy mattress and squinted at the bright light that penetrated into the room. She realised with a groan that she had forgotten to close the curtains. Bleary eyed, she gave a fleeting look to her alarm clock: it said seven twenty five. With a slight jab of panic she realised she must have missed the morning bell.

Disgruntled, she sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. Then she remembered; the jolt of nerves mixed with excitement made her jump out of bed as her head told her that she had a whole day to explore Bloor's Academy!

She always was one for adventure; as a young girl, whilst most of her friends had played with dolls and skipping ropes, she had been climbing trees and sliding down banks into streams.

Her eyes were full of sparkle as she brushed her teeth—she had half an hour to get down into the hall for breakfast. She didn't even notice the cold, until she caught a snatch of Matron Yewbeam's boots gracing the hallways with their clatter. Then memories of last night came back, and the various warnings she had given herself. She frowned at herself in the mirror and pursed her lips as she always did when she was thinking. Then, she raised her eyebrows and shrugged. _So long as I keep out of their way and keep my head down, I'll be fine_, she told herself. _But if they think they're going to get in the way of me exploring, they've got another thing coming_. And with a quick grin in the mirror, she galloped back to the dormitory, dressed, and then taking on a quieter demeanour, she left the room and slowly closed the door.

In daylight, the corridors didn't look much different; in fact, they looked just creepy as they did at night, and unfortunately, all the same. Glancing at her watch she saw she had twenty minutes to get down to the dining hall, and she knew that that wasn't going to happen unless she met someone who knew the way. Heck, even if it was Ezekiel Bloor, anyone, just so she could have her breakfast. She was starving.

Suddenly, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Thinking this was her only chance to find food, she sprinted after the figure that had just turned a corner.

Thudding around the bend, she called, "Excuse me!" and the person stopped. With relief, she realised it was not the old man or any of his cronies; no, it was someone completely different.

He was small, with hair whiter than snow on Christmas Day. Red eyes looked up through large, round spectacles at the girl in front of him. Her mind reeled slightly as she took him in; _He's an albino_, she realised, but checked herself before she said it out loud.

Never one to be nervous to make new friends (disregarding the different circumstances of the previous night) she smiled and said, "Sorry to surprise you, but I'm new here. You can probably tell, actually. Anyway, I'm meant to be going for breakfast right now; I don't suppose you could show me where the dining hall is?"

The boy peered at her for a few seconds longer before shaking himself out of his reverie and said, almost shyly, "Yes, I can show you. I was on my way there myself. My alarm clock doesn't work very well," he added in a mumble, and then blushed and looked at the ground.

"Oh, well, I'm glad I'm not the only one to be up later than intended," smiled Emory awkwardly. _This guy's making me feel kind of uncomfortable. He's much too young to be at the school though, surely? _

Without further ado, the boy turned on his heel and continued down the corridor. After a little bit of silence, Emory once again attempted conversation. "My name's Emory, by the way. Emory Adelaide. I'm to be in music, I think," she added, trying to inject a little humour.

"Oh, me too. I mean, I'm in music as well," said the boy. He half turned his head to look at her. "My name's Billy Raven."

"Nice to meet you Billy," she returned, giving him one of her nicest smiles.

More silence stretched ahead of them, but shortly Billy said, "We're nearly there." And, sure enough, Emory could see that he had led her out of the maze of corridors and that they were now walking down the steps that would take them to the main hall. Both graced the grand staircase, and Emory sped up slightly when she saw they only had two minutes to get to their destination. But she needn't have worried; for as they reached the bottom of the stairs, it was only a matter of going through two more doors, and they were there.

It was huge; several tables stretched down the length of the room, accompanied by hundreds of chairs around each. Emory marvelled at the hall for a few moments more, before discovering that her guide had walked towards a blue canteen, where a large, kindly-looking woman stood with a ladle. Emory followed in Billy's wake.

As they reached it, the lady glanced at her wrist and said, "Nearly didn't make it, Billy. But still, I've made your favourite today—sausage and mash- though don't tell Manfred," she whispered, and then gave him a wink before dishing out the food.

As Billy went to sit down, Emory stepped forward. She returned the smile of the woman standing before her. "Now, you must be Emory, am I right?" she asked.

"Yes," she replied. "But how did you know?"

"Ah, we staff here at Bloor's are kept well informed," she said with a knowing nod. "Well, I'm known as Cook. Pleased to meet you Emory—the Bloors were making a huge fuss about you," she added in an undertone whilst shaking her hand. Standing upright again—_Good grief, she's tall_, Emory mused—Cook asked her what she'd like. Looking at the display in front of her, she chose bacon, sausage, mashed potato and egg.

"You must be hungry," surmised Cook. "Did the Bloors not feed you last night?"

"Oh, no, they did, it's just—I rather lost my appetite," Emory said with a small grin. She knew she could trust this woman.

"Yes, well, the Bloors do have that affect on people," sighed Cook. "Now, go on, away with you and eat your breakfast." And with one last smile, Emory left and went to join Billy.

...

Meanwhile, up in the stuffy attic rooms of the Bloors' private living quarters, old Ezekiel Bloor sat in his wheelchair and gazed into the fire, letting his thoughts roam. He knew the girl was endowed, and he knew she was important somehow. But he also knew, from the moment that she walked into the room, that she was not going to be easy to control; no, not at all. She had a mind of her own, that girl, and she was bright too. Although Manfred _had_ mentioned to him on the quiet that his hypnotic stare had had some effect on her... But still, to completely hoodwink her would be beyond his control. For although her parents were now far away—out of the country, even—her father was still far too influential for him to do anything too drastic to her.

But she was in his care; the letters and paperwork had pretty much stated that, even if they did include a small document saying that she was free to choose her abode at weekends (once she had made friends, of course). But knowing her, she'd make the wrong kind of friends for sure—Charlie Bone and Olivia Vertigo, just to mention but a few.

Ezekiel clenched his fist with brittle bones. Well, he'd just have to pick up on the slightest misdemeanours and hold that weekend pass above her head. Yes, that ought to be sufficient as a temporary measure for now. He curled his lips now in what was meant to be a smile, but for a man of his age combined with the darkness in his heart, that was impossible; it looked more like a child had taken a crayon and drawn a wobbly impression of what a mouth should look like.

Suddenly he was thrown into a bout of coughing, and, pulling the rug over his shoulders more tightly around him, yelled, "Manfred! Stoke up the fire; it's getting colder in here. And when you've done that, you can go and keep an eye on our new pupil. She's got mischief written all over her."

If Ezekiel had known how much mischief she really was going to bring, he might have had second thoughts about admitting her to Bloors' Academy at all.

...

"So... what exactly do we do on a Sunday?" asked Emory. Her attempts at conversation so far had worked, but were hardly satisfactory and she had not gleaned much information from Billy at all.

"Well," Billy swallowed his mouthful before continuing, "Homework, usually. But seeing as you have none, I can show you around after I've done mine. But you'll have to come to the Red King's Room first; Manfred doesn't like us wondering around by ourselves. Come to think of it, neither does Matron."

"The Red King's Room... what's that?"

"Oh, it's the room where we—the endowed, that is—do our homework." He hesitated. "Are you...?"

"Oh, yes, yes I am. I've never met anyone else that's endowed. What can you do?" Emory leaned forward in anticipation.

Billy, clearly a little intimidated by this sudden interest in him, drew back slightly before adjusting his glasses and answering. "I... I talk to animals."

"Really?" Emory's eyes shone. "That's fascinating! So you can actually talk to them, and they- they can understand you?"

"Yes; and I can understand them, too—most of the time, anyway. Gerbils and sparrows are a little too noisy for my liking; they tend to talk over one another quite a lot."

"Wow," Emory breathed. "I'd swap my endowment for that one any day."

"What—what can you do?"

"Erm, I'd rather not say," she replied, and then blushed slightly. "I'm just, finding my feet at the moment, I suppose. But when I'm ready, you'll be the first to know." And she smiled at the small boy who sat next to her, his eyes widened slightly at the strange person whom he had befriended—or rather, she had befriended him.

Once breakfast had finished, Emory and Billy returned their dishes to Cook, who took them with a smile and slipped them both a mint humbug each. Thanking her, they walked back across the hall to the doors that would take them to the entrance hall. But just before they did, Billy turned to her and gave Emory a brief warning. "We have to be quiet in the entrance hall," he whispered. "The Bloors have a rule of silence—if you break it, you can end up with detention. And that's something you really don't want," he added, and with that new piece of information installed in Emory's mind, the pair walked silently to the Red King's Room, with Billy leading the way.

…

With a low creak, Billy eased open the door to the Red King's Room and peered inside. Instantly, his eyes locked with the gaze of Manfred Bloor, who sat in his usual place at the table. He already had numerous books open, and as soon as he saw that it was Billy, he looked away. His red eyes did something funny to Manfred's black ones, and it was an unpleasant feeling. He hated to admit it, but he also felt weak around Billy, knowing that his talent would never work on him. But then he saw that he was not alone. Emory had followed Billy, shut the door behind her, and was now gazing around the room. It was an unusual room; being circular in shape, various portraits adorned the walls, but the one that seemed to attract her attention was the one that hung just to the right of Manfred. It was of a king, if the golden crown sitting comfortably on his head was anything to go by. Although the colours were faded, and the details blurred, the eyes still stood out, and it was this that took her mind away into another world…

"Adelaide. Adelaide. ADELAIDE!" Emory jumped in shock as Manfred's shouts had brought her raptly to attention. She turned to face Manfred, checking herself just in time: _Don't look into his eyes_. So instead, she looked at his nose.

But Manfred didn't seem to notice anything. He continued his rant. "Adelaide, I've no doubt that Billy here has told you all about this room, right?"

"Well, not everything. For example, he didn't mention that portrait slightly to your lef-"

"Very funny, Adelaide. I see you have a sense of humour. But it will not be tolerated here, understand?"

"Yes, Manfred."

"Good. Now, as you have no homework, you can start on these questions. They're a mixture of maths, English, science and music questions—music being because that is your department. And if you don't finish them in the two hours allotted, you will stay until you have finished. There will be complete silence while you work. Here." And with that strict speech, he pointed to a thick wad of paper that was stapled together. Emory looked at it and repressed a sigh. Bloors wasn't turning out to be much fun at all.

...

An hour and a half later and Emory was bored. She had finished her work in just the one hour, and had checked over around five times. She would have asked Manfred if she could leave, but two things stopped her. One: Billy wasn't finished, and she would probably get into trouble without him explaining things. And two: Manfred didn't seem to like her very much, particularly after the rant he had when she came in the room. So once again, her eyes wondered to that peculiar portrait on the wall...

"Adelaide. Focus on your work." Manfred once again brought her back to earth.

"Oh, but I've finished it," replied Emory meekly.

"Have you?" He looked surprised. "Well, in that case, you can go outside."

"But Billy hasn't finished-"

"Aw, does the little girl need Billy to hold her hand?" Manfred sneered.

Emory glared at him. "No, actually, the little girl does _not _need Billy to hold her hand. I'll go." She stood up, marched round to where Manfred was sat, dropped the stack of papers next to him and marched out. But just as she reached the door, she paused, only momentarily, and then closed the door. At that exact moment, the fire bell rang. And rang. And rang.

...

Emory sat huddled on the wall near the ruins. Although it was sunny, there was a biting wind about that nipped at any exposed parts. _I can't feel my nose_, she thought. At that moment, the caretaker from the previous night walked past carrying a rather sinister looking rake.

He called out as he walked past. "You might want to run around a bit. Into those ruins would be a good idea." He sniggered as he continued to go about his gardening duties.

"You're nice," she muttered sarcastically. But she turned to face the ruins; they did indeed hold a certain aura of mystery and intrigue about them. She walked under the first arch and was just in the process of choosing which of the five tunnels in front of her to explore when a voice called, "Stop!"

Whipping round, Emory saw it was none other than Billy. Huffing and puffing, he arrived at her side. "Stop," he repeated. "Going down those tunnels is not a good idea. People go missing down there," he added in a whisper.

Emory was taken aback. "Really?" _But then, taking into consideration the people I met last night, maybe that's not so impossible._

"Mmhmm," nodded Billy. "Why don't I show you the rest of the grounds?"

"I'd like that," Emory smiled. And for the first time since she'd met him, Billy smiled back.

As they walked away to explore the grounds, Billy turned to her. "Did you... did you have anything to do with that fire alarm going off?"

Emory blushed. "Erm, no, no- must have been the door slamming. I don't know- it's an old building, surely?"

"I suppose," agreed Billy, but he seemed to be satisfied.

Emory bit her lip as they continued to walk. _I can't keep this up for much longer. They're going to find out soon_...


	3. Chapter 3

**Emory Adelaide and the Battle of Bloor's Academy**

**Chapter 3**

**A/N: Thanks to The Bunnies Will Kill Us All for your kind review... and sorry for the slow update, I've just been bogged down with coursework and LEARNING HOW TO DRIVE! Exciting stuff. But I'm ill with a cold today- the perfect opportunity to write more. More reviews please: constructive criticism is appreciated, honest!**

Ezekiel's mind was reeling; what Manfred had just told him was fascinating. "And you say the fire alarm went off the _exact _moment she left the room?" he enquired eagerly, leaning forward in his seat.

"Yes, great-grandfather," replied Manfred, looking a little puzzled at Ezekiel's keenness. "But why is that important?"

"Oh, no reason," replied the old man, waving his hand absent-mindedly. "Just curiosity, my lad. An old man's curiosity."

Manfred shrugged. "Fair enough." Somewhere in the fireplace, a log decomposed, causing the rest to dislodge. _Crack! Hiss! _"I'll stoke the fire, shall I?"

But Ezekiel Bloor was miles away, in the darkest, most forbidden areas of his mind, leaving a slightly glazed, almost mad, glint in his eyes.

Manfred knew that look. "Great-grandfather's plotting again," he muttered, as he reached for the stoker.

...

Monday morning. That one time of day when the world sets aside the rest of its differences, wars, arguments and problems and focuses on its one mutual enemy. Children and adults alike groan as they are forced to pull on ill fitting uniforms, and then car-share with fidgety siblings, or commute and crowd onto buses, tubes and trains and share with fidgety passengers.

But there was one person on that one Monday morning who stood out. Under normal circumstances, Emory would usually blend in with everyone else, but not that Monday. The excitement of new friends, teachers and lessons lured her out of bed an hour earlier than the morning bell and led her to sit at the window and gaze as the darkness shifted and crept away to be replaced by morning light, mixed with shop lights as businesses opened up for the beginning of another week.

It was five minutes to go until the morning bell. Emory reached forward, and with a creaking of hinges, opened the window. Breathing in fresh air, she gave herself a little pep-talk. "New school, new term, new life. Fresh start. You can do this. Do _not _let those Bloors get to you. They are bullies looking for a fight. You are above that. Peace and harmony. Make new friends. Oh, and keep an eye out for cute boys." Her affirmation complete, she stood up and stretched. The morning bell began to clang and she clapped her hands over her ears. _How on earth did I sleep through that yesterday? _She asked herself.

Dressed in the uniform Matron had supplied her with the night before (_Cool cape_, she had mused) and washed, she gave one last sweeping glance at the quiet and tidy dorm before her. _That's all going to change today_.

Now she had an hour to find breakfast, she ambled down the corridors. After coming to a few dead ends and locked doors, she eventually found her way to the Entrance Hall. After that, finding her way was easy.

She reached the blue canteen and was disappointed for several reasons. One: Billy was not there. Two: it was not Cook who was dishing out breakfast but some shrewd elderly woman who looked as if she had "Bah! Humbug" written all over her. And three: the four most unpleasant people in the world were sat at the long table on the stage at the far end of the room, accompanied by others who she could only assume were teachers.

All eyes were on her as she crossed the room to get her food; she could feel in particular the red-hot stare of Manfred Bloor. Suppressing a shudder, she made it to the canteen, where the strict dinner lady gave her a meagre portion of... okay, she didn't exactly know what it was, but she was hungry and accepted it all the same. Once again, she made her way across to the table and sat down, hoping to high heaven that they wouldn't all watch her eat.

Thankfully, at that moment, Billy Raven entered, fetched his breakfast, and then joined Emory at the table. Small murmurs broke out at the top table; Emory was sure they were about her.

Taking a chance, she turned to Billy. Pointing at her food, she asked in a whisper, "What exactly _is _this?"

Billy chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "I think it's mashed potato with bacon." He swallowed hard and looked at her. "It's the only thing you're going to get- you might as well eat it."

Frowning at her food, Emory took a deep breath, and ate.

...

Breakfast finished, Dr Bloor stood up and clapped his hands for attention (not that it was needed: no one had said anything for the past five minutes). "Miss Adelaide," he boomed, "I would like to see you in my study right now. Billy, go and get ready for lessons." Billy needed no second warning; he scuttled off as soon as Dr Bloor finished speaking.

As slowly as she dared, Emory put away her breakfast things and followed Dr Bloor out of the room. Just before they left, he turned back to the top table and barked, "Manfred. You had better come as well."

Emory's stomach sank through the floor. She felt like she was a criminal on the way to a trial. Dr Bloor led the way, and Manfred strode behind her, causing her to power walk so as to stay far enough away from him. She could feel his gaze on the back of her head, but decided enough was enough: she would not be intimidated. So she straightened her posture and put her head up. She was in no mood for his mind games today.

Dr Bloor led them to his office; it was spacious, and several certificates adorned the walls, as well as one or two trophy cases full of awards. Dr Bloor sat in the high backed chair behind the desk, and motioned Emory to take the seat in front. Manfred stood beside his father and leant causally back on the wall behind.

Dr Bloor leaned forward on his desk and pressed his fingertips together. "Emory," he began, "I understand that you may not know your way around here as of yet, and that such a big school can be confusing for you."

Emory resisted the urge to roll her eyes. _How patronising_.

"However," he continued, "I have decided that to help you out, you will be assigned a guide. Someone who's in music and knows all the rules and how to keep them. So, when class begins, Manfred here will introduce you to Joshua Tilpin. He's very friendly; tends to _attract _a lot of people. I'm sure you two will get along just _fine_." Dr Bloor stressed the word "fine" in a way that said, "or else". Emory nodded.

"Thank you for your thoughtfulness," she said. "I'm sure that with Joshua's help, I'll find my way around in no time."

Dr Bloor coughed. "Very good. Now, I will issue you with your timetable. Joshua's is very similar, so you won't have to go too far to find him. Lessons begin at 9:15, with assembly beginning at 8:45." He checked his watch. "So let's get going, shall we?"

Emory left the room. This time, there was no one to guide her back. But she found her way easily enough. And as she passed through corridor after corridor, she pondered Dr Bloor's "thoughtfulness". _There was something _off _about the way he talked about that Joshua_, she thought. _I wonder if he's trying to keep an eye on me_. But she decided to reserve judgement until she'd met him. Not long to wait, then...

...

By the time she rejoined the Entrance Hall, it was buzzing with students. Lots of them... more than Emory had first assumed, anyway. _There's something odd about this_... she mused, until it hit her. No one was talking. Apart from one or two attempted whispers (which were sharply reprimanded by the prefects standing around) the hall was completely silent, excepting the slapping of shoes on the marble floor. Slowly, she joined the mass of students heading towards the cloakrooms, but paused. Ahead of her were three choices; three doors with different symbols above each. Over the first, theatre masks. Over the second, a crossed paintbrush and pencil. And over the third, crossed trumpets. She (correctly) assumed they were to do with the three "houses", but felt it would be prudent to enter with the rest. So she waited until everyone had entered, and then glanced around, hoping she would see someone who could direct her. She turned full circle until her eyes met another pair, the owner of which was standing by the crossed trumpets.

He was small, with brown hair and a cheesy grin. Under normal circumstances Emory would consider him to be almost creepy and would avoid him at all costs; however, she had a horrible sinking feeling as she approached him that he was Joshua.

As she got nearer, she noticed other things; like how he seemed to have bits of fluff, paper and even... _leaves_? in his hair. And how another feeling was coming over her too; whilst she smiled anyway (as was her nature when meeting new people) she found she couldn't stop smiling, even when she reached to shake the boy's hand.

"I'm Emory," she said, still feeling slightly weirded out.

"Joshua," replied the boy. If anything, his grin seemed to stretch even wider. "I'll take you to the cloakroom and then onto assembly. Through the trumpets." And he turned on his heel and walked through the arch. Emory followed behind, wondering why she was strangely attracted to this boy. What was it about him that made her want to be friends despite her gut instinct telling her something was fishy?

...

Assembly over and done with, Emory fished out her timetable and glanced at the first lesson. Double history. Great. She glared upwards- _Is this some kind of a joke? _Suddenly, she felt movement at her shoulder- it was Joshua.

"Ready to go?" he asked, giving her that strange smile. Once again, it was so compelling that she couldn't help smiling back, despite her frustration at the prospect of a very boring morning. Joshua glimpsed her timetable and grimaced. "Double history- that's a nasty one," he frowned. "Doesn't help that you've got it with Mr Pope..." Suddenly realising that he probably wasn't helping Emory to settle in, he changed his tone and was once again smiling. "Let's get going, shall we?" Emory could only nod, slightly baffled by the sudden shift in mood. They marched off down the corridor, the only sounds being the tap of their shoes on the stone flags.

...

"Come in!" A sharp and scratchy voice called out. The door to Mr Pope's history lesson creaked open, and Emory peered inside.

"Mr Pope?" she asked hesitantly, trying not to look at the rest of the class.

"Yes?" The old man who stood at the twitched his spectacles slightly and peered at her from over the top of the lenses. He quickly grabbed the register. "Miss... Emory, I presume?" he enquired, and Emory nodded, visibly relieved that she had found the right class. "You're late," he stated, and suddenly Emory's good mood vanished a little.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said meekly. "It took me a while to get here. I've never been here before."

"I gathered," Mr Pope said dryly. "But Dr Bloor informed me that he'd given you a guide?"

"Yes; Joshua Tilpin," replied Emory, wishing that the floor would cave in and take her with it.

"Very well," the old man grumbled, "But this is the only exception I will make. Take a seat over there next to Mr Gunn."

In the very back row, there stood a desk with a boy sat at it. He had short blond hair with a slight rustic tinge to it, and an easy-going smile. He motioned to the seat beside him and Emory took it, smiling back. But this time, she knew she wanted to.

When Mr Pope had resumed the lesson, Fidelio grabbed a pen and a scrap of paper and began scribbling away. After a short while, making sure the teacher wasn't looking, he passed it to Emory.

_Hi, I'm Fidelio Gunn. Looks like I'll be your history partner. Your name's Emory, right? It's nice. If you need anything at all, just ask. I know Dr Bloor's assigned you Joshua, but in my opinion he's a good-for-nothing little toerag- just ask anyone. I'll introduce you to my friends at break; I'm sure they'll want to meet you. Are you endowed? Write back _

Emory turned to grin at the boy sitting beside her. Quickly grabbing her own pen and paper, she replied,

_Hi- yes, my name's Emory- Fidelio? That's almost as unusual as my name- but I like your name too. It suits you. I think you might be right about Joshua- he's very strange. I'd love to meet your friends- I hope they've all got smiles like yours :D Oh, and I am endowed, yes._

Once Mr Pope's back was turned, she pushed the paper in Fidelio's direction. She tried not to stare at him as he read it, but soon enough she felt a nudge on her elbow.

"Are you going to tell me what you do?" he whispered, but unlike the Bloors he was quite polite about it.

"I'm sorry," she blushed, "but I'm going to wait until I've settled in first before I tell anyone. Even the Bloors don't know what I do."

"That's alright," said Fidelio understandingly. "That's totally your decision. I'm not endowed myself- but I'm glad the Bloors don't know. And I think it's a good idea that you don't tell them for as long as possible."

"Why?" Emory asked, but suddenly her eyes caught the glare of Mr Pope.

"Miss... Adelaide," he said, pausing to glance at his register, "are you listening?"

"Yes, sir, of course," replied Emory.

"Right," Mr Pope spoke slowly, almost disbelievingly. "I've my eye on you- _both_ of you." And he turned back to the blackboard and continued his lesson.

Emory and Fidelio turned to each other and grinned.

...

After two long hours (although Emory was sure it would have been longer had it not been for Fidelio), the lesson ended and the class was dismissed.

Joshua was waiting outside the classroom. "Emory?" he called, "Do you want to come outside with me and meet my mates?"

"Um, no thanks, Josh- I said I'd go and join Fidelio and his friends," Emory called back. "I'll join you another day."

Josh's face fell, and Emory almost felt sorry for him, until Fidelio whispered, "Don't. It's an act. I bet you he's under orders to keep an eye on you- spy for the Bloors. I'm afraid there are two sides in this school. Don't join theirs."

"So which side are you on?"

"The good side, of course!" replied Fidelio with a smile. "And it's about time you met the rest of the team. Come on, Emory- let's meet Charlie Bone."

**Ta-da! Another chapter complete! Tell me what you think, please. Chapter 4 should be underway pretty soon- especially if this cold keeps up! **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hi! I will firstly apologise for the lack of updates- I planned the whole story out in a notebook, and then typically, I lost it. Not good. But then the other day, I found it! *does little victory dance* So now I can continue, yay! Enjoy...**

**Chapter 4**

A bitter autumn wind swept the grounds around Bloor's Academy as Emory and Fidelio marched along to where Charlie Bone and the rest of the group were huddled. Their capes billowed as they walked in companionable silence. Emory was secretly very glad she did not have to go and meet Joshua's friends; they didn't look very friendly from where Emory could see them.

As they got nearer to the group, a girl with violent orange hair came to meet them.

"Hi," she said breathlessly, grinning all the while. "You must be the new student- I'm so glad you met Fidelio first, that means we get another for the good side!" Fidelio silenced her with a look.

"Calm down, Liv- this is Emory, and actually, it seems the Bloors paired her up with Tilpin over there first."

Olivia Vertigo's smile vanished as she glared at the group of mean looking students huddled around the walls of the Academy. But it soon reappeared as she grabbed Emory's arm and led her over to meet the rest of them.

"My name's Olivia Vertigo," she began, pointing at herself. "Drama. This is my besty, Emma Tolly- she's in art. Then there's Gabriel Silk, music; Lysander Sage, art; Tancred Torsson, art; Billy Raven, music- though I dare say you've already met, right? Billy was telling me-" A cough from Fidelio brought Olivia back to introductions. "Oh, yes, sorry- and finally, this is Charlie Bone. Music. Trouble follows him wherever he goes-"

"Yeah, you," interrupted a tall blond boy whom Olivia said was Tancred. There was a bit of scattered laughter as Olivia stomped her foot.

"Ha ha, very funny- though I don't see how you can talk, Storm Boy," she replied cheekily.

Tancred attempted to swat her and missed.

"It's great to meet you all- though I'm not very good with names, I'm afraid," said Emory, feeling she had stayed silent for long enough.

"Don't worry about it," said Charlie. "Billy tells us you're endowed- is this true?"

Before Emory could reply, Fidelio spoke for her. "Yes, but she doesn't want to tell anyone until she's ready."

"Fair enough," said Emma. "But we'll tell you ours, right?"

"Wait a minute," said Lysander. "No offence to you, of course, but- how do we know you're not on the Bloor's side? I mean, Joshua Tilpin had us fooled for long enough..."

Emory raised a hand to silence him. "None taken. Trust me," she said, "from the moment I met the Bloors I disliked them. Manfred has a creepy stare- it's almost like he can hypnotise people." (At this point, knowing looks were exchanged between the rest of the group.) "Matron is like a vulture in human form, and don't get me started on the really old Bloor guy. The Bloors don't know of my endowment and I intend to keep it that way."

"Yeah," Fidelio added, "I've just spent two hours with her and it already feels like I've known her for years. So you can take my word for it too."

"And mine," piped up Billy Raven.

"Okay, okay," said Lysander, chuckling as he held up his hands in mock surrender. "I was only checking. Of course we'll give our endowments. I'll start, yes? Well, I can call up my spirit ancestors in times of need."

Emory's jaw dropped open slightly.

Emma spoke up next. She seemed to be the quiet one. "I can fly."

"I can call up storms." _Really? Not hard to imagine that_, thought Emory with a smile.

"I can feel memories in people's clothing."

"I can talk to animals."

"I can hear photos and paintings- on the rare occasion, I can go into them too."

"And what about you?" Emory asked, turning to Fidelio and Olivia whilst recovering from the shock of the things these people could do.

"Well, I'm not endowed," began Fidelio.

"But he's the best musician you will ever know," Charlie added.

Fidelio gave a modest smile. "Thanks for that, mate. And Liv here... You want to explain it?"

Olivia nodded, but then leant close to Emory and spoke in almost a whisper. "The Bloors don't yet know about my talent, and, like you, I want to keep it that way. Makes it more fun." She winked. "I can create illusions."

Emory smiled. "Wow- you guys have such cool endowments... makes mine seem pretty pathetic in comparison- to be honest, I don't see how mine could ever be useful."

"Awww, don't tell us that!" said Tancred. "Now it makes me even more curious!"

"Sorry," said Emory with a shrug. "But judging from the way you guys are making me feel so welcome already, it probably won't be long before I tell you all."

At that moment, the bell signalling the end of break went, and the students hurried across the grounds to the shelter and safety of the Academy.

...

The rest of the day passed without incident. A few more lessons; meeting new teachers, and just generally keeping out of trouble. By the time the bell went for dinner, Emory was pretty tired.

She met up with Billy as they made their way to the dining room. "Can't I just go to bed?" she moaned.

Billy took her seriously. "Um, I don't think so. The Bloors get pretty mad if you miss dinner..."

Emory just raised her eyebrows at him but said nothing.

As she sat at the table with her as-yet unidentified meal, she was joined by Charlie, Fidelio and Gabriel.

"Hey guys," she greeted with a weary smile, before proceeding to poke at her food with her fork.

"Hey Emory," replied Charlie. "How did the rest of your day go?"

"Tired," was the response, followed by a yawn that was hurriedly stifled. "Sorry. This day's really taken it out of me!"

"You'll get used to it," promised Gabriel with a smile.

"And we'll help you out," agreed Fidelio, and gave her a gentle bump on the shoulder with his fist.

"Thanks," Emory said, followed with another yawn.

Suddenly they heard voices arguing heatedly outside of the hall. Being close to the door, all four of them peered as far as they dared without raising suspicion and saw Dr Bloor and Manfred standing one side and Joshua Tilpin standing opposite them. The formers looked very stern and angry, whereas Joshua looked quite calm, but there were creases in his brow. Then the word "Adelaide" was mentioned.

Emory looked quizzically at the other three. "Why would they be talking about me?" she asked. "What did I do?"

Charlie looked a bit shifty. "The Bloors are probably angry that Joshua didn't manage to keep you with him all day," he said. "They're like that; very possessive. You're endowed; they probably want to keep tabs on you."

"But what's so wrong about hanging out with you? Fidelio said the Bloors weren't exactly friendly, and something about sides... care to explain?"

Charlie, Fidelio and Gabriel all exchanged guilty looks.

Emory frowned. "What?"

"Well, it's like this..." began Charlie. "The Bloors and us... We don't... That is to say..."

Fidelio cut in. "The Bloors hate our guts, is what he's trying to say."

Emory's eyebrows shot up. "Really? What did you do?"

"In a nutshell, the Bloors, and a few others- like Charlie's great aunts- are out for total control and domination of the endowed, et cetera," explained Gabriel. "They've had a few attempts, but they've been thwarted."

"By us," added Fidelio with a grin. "So, we're on opposite sides of the spectrum. They're pure evil, but we're... kind of awesome."

"So modest," smiled Emory. "But the Bloors sound dangerous... can't they just close the school or something?"

"Good point, but no. They have too much influence over the city council for that to happen, unfortunately. So, it's a case of keeping our noses clean and trying to get along unscathed. Easier said than done, mind," said Charlie.

"Ohh," said Emory slowly, as if things were just dawning on her. "That must give an edge to the school day," she added with a mischievous grin.

"To put it mildly," responded Fidelio. "But stick with us; we're the winning side."

"You know what; I think I just might..."

All four once again peered out of the door to see what was going on, but the hall was empty.

"See something interesting, Bone?"

The group all swivelled around in horror to see Manfred Bloor looming over them.

"N-no, Manfred," said Charlie quietly.

"Good," replied Manfred, a hard edge to his voice. "Adelaide, as an endowed person you are required to do your homework in the King's Room every night for two hours. No doubt one of these idiots will explain and show you the way." He stalked off, his cape billowing out behind him.

"Okay, did anyone see icicles hanging off him? Anyone? Very frosty atmosphere," whispered Emory.

The rest had to stifle giggles as they began clearing their plates and gathering their bags, with Charlie, Billy and Gabriel showing Emory to the King's Room.

...

The frosty atmosphere continued as Emory tried to do her homework. She couldn't help but notice that everyone was split into two groups; the gang she had met today on one side, and a whole bunch of creepy-looking people on the other. Manfred sat at the head of the table. Above him was a huge portrait; a kindly, but fierce-looking man, wise and serene. Every so often she couldn't help but glance at the portrait, unfortunately missing Charlie's frantic mouthed signals at her telling her to stop. Which of course, resulted in...

"Adelaide!"

Emory jumped out of her skin; at that precise moment, the lights all went out and somewhere in the room, music began to play.

Cries rose up from everyone in the room.

"What just happened?"

"Where's the light switch?"

"Help, I'm scared of the dark!"

"Everyone shut UP!"

Emory sighed and put her head in her hands. Suddenly, the lights came back on, and the music stopped playing. Everyone froze in position; some had got up and had run to the door; others had their hands over their ears, but the funniest was definitely Joshua; he had leapt into Manfred's lap and was now clinging on for dear life.

"Get off me!" shouted Manfred, and he pushed Joshua to the floor. He glared around at the composed side of the table: Charlie Bone and his friends. "Who was responsible?" he glared.

Emory tried to compose her face. She kept as still as possible as Manfred looked from one to the other.

Realising he was not going to get an answer, he shrugged, straightened his tie and said, "Freak power cut. It's an old building. Now back to work!"

Everyone stifled a groan; another half an hour of silence and misery.

Emory let out a silent sigh of relief, but not before she caught Tancred and Lysander looking at her strangely. She knew they were going to grill her after this...

...

Homework over, everyone filed out of the room. Manfred left first; probably to explain the strange tale that had unfolded that evening. Emory packed her things as quickly as she could, but every time she got her papers organised, a freak gust of wind blew them off the table, and she would have to start all over again. That soon became apparent as she realised she was the only one left in the room, except for Tancred and Lysander.

Grinning calmly at the two, she finished packing her bag. "Forgot you could do that," she motioned to Tancred. "Storms, and... stuff."

She was about to walk out of the door, when Lysander called, "Not so fast."

"Yeah," agreed Tancred. "Was that you, before? 'Cos if it was, you might as well tell us. We promise we won't tell another living soul."

Closing her eyes, Emory turned slowly. She could trust them, she knew. It was just... would they laugh? But it was time. She was going to have to tell them.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry! I meant to update over the Easter holidays, but I left the beginnings of this chapter at college and not on my memory stick as I thought! So I've finally finished this chapter; hope it's worth the wait! Oh yes, and review please!**

**Chapter 5**

Emory sighed. "My endowment's a bit… weird," she said falteringly.

"What, and ours isn't?" said Lysander with a smile, gesturing to Tancred.

"Okay, fair point, well made," she said. "Basically, I can mess with electrical items; turn them off and on, change the volume, brightness, et cetera. It's not telekinesis as such, but it's not even that great. Typically I got stuck with the rubbishy one."

She looked up at the two boys; both were looking slightly agape. "Guys?" she said, and waved a hand in front of their faces. "You okay?"

Tancred was the first to come round. "As far as talents go, yours is pretty awesome," he said. "Right, 'Sander?"

"Yeah, trust me, that endowment's gonna come in pretty handy."

"Really?" Emory asked. "All it seems to have done so far is get me into trouble."

"Nah," said Tancred. "Manfred always picks on the new kids- take Charlie, for example. I remember his first night in the King's Room… even _I _didn't get into that much trouble, and I was so nervous I kept blowing everyone's work of the table by accident."

"Yeah," agreed Lysander, "and my first time here resulted in the sound of drums never too far away in the distance- it did Manfred's head in. Yours is much easier to conceal... although judging by tonight's events, maybe not..." He smiled at Emory, and she smiled back.

"Sage, Torsson, Adelaide? What are you doing still hanging around here? Bed, now!" Manfred was back, and he looked stormier than Tancred did. The boys sighed, and made to move past him. Emory meekly followed, looking vaguely calm on the outside, but inside, her heart was hammering madly. Had he heard what they'd just said? Surely not, surely he'd have hauled her off the to the headmaster... But what if he was just biding his time? Waiting to capture her in the act? Emory knew this tension was going to drive her crazy, not knowing whether he knew or not. It was time to play the waiting game.

...

The rest of the week followed without incident. Emory got on well with her new found friends. Sadly she couldn't say the same about most of her teachers... She worked well and quietly in the King's Room, although she did struggle to fight the urge to look at that beautiful, enchanting portrait, which she now knew to be of the Red King himself. All of this kept her out of trouble for the next four days, and by the time the weekend rolled round, Emory (although nervous) went to claim her right to her weekend pass, a note from her parents stating that Emory could visit and/or stay with anyone she chose during the weekends, and could explore the town. As she had no detentions or misdemeanours they could bring up against her, Dr Bloor reluctantly handed her his signed permission, warning her to be back at the castle no later than nine o' clock.

Gleefully, Emory made her way across the grounds and out of the wrought iron gates. She resisted the urge to skip, knowing that eyes could be watching her. With a crude, hand-drawn map in her pocket, she set off to find her friends, at a place called The Pet's Cafe.

Knowing she had well over half an hour to get there, Emory took her time. She meandered past clothes shops, restaurants, butchers, bakers, even candlestick makers. But one sight made her stop in her tracks and gaze upwards in awe. It was a cathedral, but of epic proportions. Detailed and delicate patterns and people were carved into the stone who gazed out over the city. She stood, admiring its height and beauty, when suddenly the bells chimed out a beautiful tune, making her jump but also reminding her she had only five minutes to get to the cafe on time, although Charlie did say that the cafe was near the cathedral. A place called Frog Street, if she remembered correctly.

So, glancing around (out of curiosity, more than paranoia) she set off, quickly locating the street, and then the cafe.

_Quaint_, was the first word that sprung to mind. But that was followed closely by _loud_. Though small, it seemed a surprisingly large number of people and animals could get inside. _So that's why it's called Pet's Cafe_, Emory realised. She nodded slightly as if to confirm her thoughts, but then was shaken out of them by the oncoming presence of Gabriel Silk.

"Hi Emory," he greeted. Emory smiled back. She noticed he held something clasped in her hands. "You're not allergic to anything, are you?" he asked.

"Erm, not that I know of, maybe blueberries, but-"

"Then here, take this." He suddenly thrust into her hands a gerbil. It was small, black and white, and fast asleep.

"Oh, um, thanks."

Gabriel grinned at her obvious confusion. "Not allowed in without an animal," he explained.

"Ah, I see." With that, Emory walked into the cafe with Gabriel, past a rather intimidating-looking bouncer, who smiled at the pair as they entered.

"Emory, over here!" It was Olivia, and she was stood up and waving wildly at her, gesturing the two to find a seat at their already overcrowded table.

"Made it here alright, then?" asked Tancred.

"Yep," replied Emory, "though I never realised how beautiful the city was."

"Oh, it's a keeper," said Olivia, who was almost bouncing up and down in her seat, such was her energy.

"Emory, would you like a drink? Or something to eat?"

"Erm, yeah, sure." She glanced at the counter, unsure of what they served.

Lysander, who had a better view, mentioned a few of the delicacies they served and Emory chose a cup of tea with a slice of ginger nutbread.

Fidelio insisted that he should pay, and walked over to place an order.

The rest of the table got down to business.

"So," began Olivia, in an unusually quiet voice, "Tanc tells us you've got an amazing endowment."

Emory looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. "Amazing? Really?"

Tancred shrugged his shoulders. "What? To me it is."

Charlie pulled Olivia away from Emory, whom she was leaning much too close to. "Liv, if Emory isn't ready, then you've got to wait. You know how persuasive those two can be," he added, referring to the two best friends sat a few places away. Both looked remarkably innocent and relaxed.

"Oh, no, no, it's okay. I'll tell you. After a week of being with you guys, I've discovered you're actually kind of awesome- the last people I'd want to tell my endowment to would be the Bloors." Emory pulled a face.

"One tea and a slice of ginger nutbread." Fidelio had returned, and with him beautiful examples of what he'd announced. He took a seat. "What were you guys talking about?"

"Actually, I was about to reveal my endowment, but I think I'll wait till I've eaten this..."

"NO!" came the cry from the rest of the table.

Emory grinned. "I'm kidding!" And she proceeded to tell them of her gift.

The response was almost exactly the same as Tancred's and Lysander's had been. Fidelio was the first to recover with a low whistle.

"Wow," he said. "That's kind of awesome. I don't even have an endowment, but being able to do that would sure come in handy."

"Really? You're not just saying that? Because I don't think it's that great..."

There were reassurances from the rest of the table that hers was ranked among the best. Suddenly, Emory took a proper look around the table.

"Hang on a minute... Where's Billy? I thought he hung out with you."

"Yeah, about that..." said Charlie. "Billy still technically lives with the Bloors- his freedom is held above his head by those bullies. But, on occasion, he has proved to be less than trustworthy. So, when we have meetings like today's, I know it sounds mean, but we sometimes have to leave him out. For our own good. And his."

There was a silence as Emory digested this. "But, he seems so nice."

"Well, he is, but he can be so easily manipulated," Charlie continued. "By his own good, I mean that the Bloors know he hasn't been around us, so they can't weasel information out of him. Why does it matter so much?"

"Oh. It's nothing really, it's just that when I first met him, he asked what I could do, and naturally, I didn't tell him, but I promised that when I did start telling people, he'd be the first to know. And I hate breaking promises."

"Ah." Fidelio sympathised. "Well, I'm really sorry, but telling Billy might not be the smartest move. If they have the slightest inkling that he knows, they'll haul him off and extract information."

"You mean, torture?" Emory's eyes widened.

"Er, no, but I wouldn't put it past them. Their accomplices have been known to apply less humane methods when trying to find things out."

"Accomplices?"

At this, everyone turned to face Charlie. He looked a little sheepish. "My aunts," he admitted. "Well, my great-aunts. Venetia, Lucretia and Eustacia. Not forgetting my grandmother, of course- Grizelda."

"They're related to you?"

"Sadly. In fact, Lucretia is the matron at Bloors Academy. Be careful what you say around her."

"Ah. Thanks for the heads up."

"No problem. Now, drink your tea. It's getting cold."

Gratefully, Emory settled sown to enjoy her food. She finally felt a part of something now, something exciting. A fight against good and evil. And there was no way she was going to let evil win.

...

After a pleasant time relaxing (if that was the right word) in the cafe, Emma and Olivia decided to give Emory a grand tour of the city sights. Naturally, they passed the museum, Emma's aunt's bookshop, some of the best restaurants and clothes shops, and various other places, such as arcades and the like. They had just bought some ice-creams at an ice-cream van when Emory noticed a shadowy figure out of the corner of her eye. It looked like a skinny man, wearing a coat and hat that looked far too big for him and out of place. She frowned.

Olivia noticed the frown. "What's up?"

"Oh, it's probably nothing. I just thought I saw this guy. It was weird; he was wearing a really long coat-"

"Asa," said Emma and Olivia together, darkly.

"Asa? What's that?"

"Who's that, is more accurate," said Olivia. "Do you remember in the King's Room? Sits next to Manfred, hangs onto his every word? Ginger hair?"

"Oh, yeah." Emory had a vague recollection of him. Then realisation dawned. "You don't think... he's not _spying_ on me?"

"Ten to one, I'd bet that's what he'd doing. Keep your wits about you, Emory. The Bloors have eyes everywhere."

Emory nodded, and the trio walked on. She didn't want to linger there much longer.

...

The rest of the weekend passed much too quickly for Emory's liking. Before she knew it, it was Sunday evening, and she was finishing off her meagre dinner in the dining room, under the ever watchful gaze of the Bloors. The kind dinner lady whom she'd first met had served her again that night, so the quality of the food was better than normal. But it still felt unnatural to be watched by so many eyes.

...

Monday morning: Emory groaned. What had started out last week as cheerful optimism had turned into the usual Monday morning dread. Emory savoured the few minutes left she had of a dormitory to herself, before clambering out of bed and stumbling to prepare herself for the day ahead. Breakfast was a quiet affair, but it wasn't long before the rumble of school buses coming up the drive could be heard, as well as the chatter of hundreds of students.

Assembly was soon in full swing, although it was begun by a small speech from the headmaster. Dr Bloor strode onto the stage, and what little noise there was fell silent.

"If I could have your attention, please," he began in his booming voice, "I would like to announce a new student to music. Please welcome, Edgar Savage!"

Onto the stage sauntered a tall, yet stocky boy, about Emory's age, if not a little older. He looked quiet, but not shy. Quite the opposite. He surveyed the room and its occupants with indifference. But suddenly, it went cold. Emory shivered; she turned to those around her to see if anyone else had felt it. But Fidelio seemed fine. He was looking at the stage as if he had felt nothing. Emory turned to Charlie, Gabriel and Billy. Her suspicions were confirmed; they were cold and shivering too. This guy was affecting the endowed- and not in a good way.

This guy spelt trouble; what fresh problems was he going to bring with him?


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

**A/N: Firstly, I am sooooo sorry I have not updated in so long! It's been what, two months? Forgive me, please? *flutters eyelashes* So anyway, here's the next chapter- reviews please!**

Edgar Savage stepped down from the stage, and took a seat at the very front of the hall, right beside the stage. Although he transfixed his gaze solely on the Head, he looked less than interested. Bored was probably the correct description. Emory's attention dwindled from the mundane announcements, and instead fixed itself upon the new boy. She knew there was something odd about him, but she couldn't quite place the feeling. Suddenly, she realised that she was gazing into none other than her subject's eyes. And they weren't happy to be looking at hers. Quickly, she pulled away from the glare, and blushed. She hated to be caught staring at someone.

...

Soon, the speeches were over and the music students trouped out. Edgar Savage was the last to leave; he had some unfinished business with Dr Bloor and Manfred. As soon as Emory was out of the "No Talking" zone, she swung around to face the others from music; her hair swung around and hit Gabriel in the face.

"Ow!"

"Oh, sorry! Anyway, did you guys notice anything off about that new guy?"

Charlie scratched his head thoughtfully. "Now you mention it, it did go a bit chilly when he came in—I just assumed that it was draughty."

"I felt that chill too!" Emory exclaimed as they made their way to the lockers.

"You guys felt cold?" asked Fidelio. "I didn't notice anything."

"Really? Maybe it only affects the endowed?"

Charlie and Gabriel looked at each other. "Uh, look, Emory, I know that he doesn't look pleasant exactly, but you can't go assuming the worst about him. Give the guy a chance."

"But, I just _know _there's something weird about him. I don't know what it is yet, but I'll find out!"

"Look, before you go charging off, making accusations, just let him settle in. I mean, Dr Bloor never even mentioned if he was endowed or not! Just chill, Emory."

And with that final warning in place, the group parted ways. Gabriel, Charlie and Billy headed towards Maths, and Fidelio and Emory left for History. Emory was frowning; her new found friends didn't seem to agree with her on this one.

Fidelio noticed the look and sighed. "Hey, they're just giving him the benefit of the doubt. There's no harm in that; if he really is a creep, we'll know soon enough. Come on, we're going to be late at this rate!"

Emory shrugged and gave Fidelio a small smile. _I'm over-reacting! _she thought to herself. And yet, at the back of her mind was that niggling doubt. That all was not as it seemed...

...

In Emory's opinion, six o' clock swung round all too soon. She made her way to the King's Room as slowly as possible. She hadn't really made much conversation with anyone today; except for Fidelio, of course. The two were becoming firm friends. Instead, she had often spaced out and stared into space. And she wasn't just thinking about Edgar Savage; her parents formed some of her thoughts too. She missed them, of course—but with friends like those she had gained, there was not much time to dwell on that fact.

She reached the door. Ah yes, good old silence. That meant Manfred was around. Just as she heard a clock somewhere chime the hour, Emory quietly turned the handle of the door and entered. Half of the group looked up as she entered, but soon returned to their studies. She took a seat next to Emma, who gave her a small smile.

As she got her things out, Emory took the opportunity to glance around the room. Manfred was sat almost directly opposite her, with the rest of his "crew" fanned out around him on either side. As her eyes swept the full circle of the table, her heart sank slightly. Edgar was not seated among them: he was not endowed. She blushed a little; her comments had been too early and she felt ashamed that she had made such quick assumptions against the boy. With a sigh, she settled down to some Geography.

...

The clock chimed half past six. No one took much notice; all it meant was that there was still another hour and a half to go before they could all leave.

Suddenly, there was a small creak. Emory looked up at the door, and her heart did a little somersault.

It was Edgar Savage.

He walked into the room, his eyes fixed on Manfred.

Manfred coughed a little, and everyone tensed; his scaldings were legendary and well-known throughout the school. No one messed with Manfred, so everyone prepared for the storm that was to come.

But nothing happened. Manfred gestured to the free seat beside Tancred, and Edgar gave a small nod before sitting himself down.

Emory shivered; that chill was there again! This was definitely NOT a coincidence.

After two minutes or so, everyone settled down. Except something was off; it was even more quiet than usual. Emory paused in her work, frowned, and looked around the room as to what could be missing. Something wasn't right. And then she noticed it.

It was Tancred. He looked a little pale; his usually tanned face was a shade of grey. Her eyes flicked back to Edgar. He had his head bent to the desk, working as though everything was normal.

But it wasn't. Because there was something more off with Tancred. He was still. Which to most people wouldn't signify anything strange, but to Emory and everyone else, it was.

Tancred's hair was usually crackling with electricity; little gusts of wind would emit from him every so often (particularly when he came across a difficult maths sum); and occasionally, there would be a small rumble of thunder.

But as Emory looked at the Storm Boy, she noticed that he wasn't doing anything. His hair lay flat and floppy over his head; his papers lay still on the desk.

Emory's frown deepened. This wasn't right! And it was something to do with that Savage boy, she was sure of it! But this time, wisely, she thought she would keep her observations to herself. _I'm going to find out who that boy is, and _what _he is_.

"Something the matter, Adelaide," came Manfred's drawl from across the table.

Emory was startled out of her planning, and looked back down at her work. Chewing on her pencil, her mind quickly turned back to the problem that was Edgar Savage.

_I _will_ find out who you are_, she promised. There was something not right about this whole situation, not at all. From then on, Emory resolved to keep a close eye on this new kid.

**A/N: I know it's short- things will pick up in the next chapter! So, yeah, I'll probably go over this soon and rewrite half of it. Review please; they're like fuel—they make me write faster! :P**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

**A/N: Once again, apologies! I lost my book with the entire plot in it, and then I found it again. Yippee! (Okay, this is the second time it's happened. You might have to get used to it :P) Enjoy!**

Tuesday morning dawned cold and bright—and without hitch. Emory was determined to keep all her opinions to herself from now on; the slightly embarrassing outburst of yesterday was still fresh in her mind. But she was also resolved to keep her wits about her with Edgar.

First came French, followed by Maths. Then it was break. Seeing as no weather condition was too adverse for the Bloors to allow students to remain inside, all were forced out into the weak sunshine. Blue, green and purple capes, scarves, hats and gloves adorned the many pupils as they stood huddled in groups, trying to keep warm.

Emory and co. stood in their usual spot: right next to the castle ruins. She noticed they were not too far off from Manfred, Asa and his group, and amongst them stood the object of her thoughts: Edgar. Although if he was causing a chill today, it was lost in the weather.

They seemed to be whispering, with the occasional derisive laugh from the Head Boy himself, but before she had time to dwell on what they might be talking about, a hand appeared in front of her face and clicked its fingers.

"Hello? Earth to Emory? Are you reading me? Do you copy? Emory!"

It was Olivia.

Emory shook her head and focused on her friends standing behind her.

"Oh, sorry guys, I was just..."

"Spacing out, yet again!" said Olivia in mock frustration.

Emory grinned sheepishly, and with enormous effort, pushed Manfred and his possible schemes out of her head. She succeeded. But not for long.

"Hey, Torsson!" It was Asa. Charlie and everyone else swung round.

"Hey, Torsson!" he yelled again. "Is Tolly your girlfriend, mate? You seem to be getting pretty friendly with her!"

Emma blushed and stepped shyly behind Charlie. Tancred stood up from his seat on the wall; he was frowning deeply as he clenched and unclenched his hands.

Lysander placed a hand in front of him. "Leave it mate, he's not worth it."

Unfortunately, Asa was not thinking along the same lines. "I'm surprised you could get a girlfriend at all—wouldn't the wind just blow her away?" he jeered. The others surrounding Asa tittered and laughed as they saw the wind pick up a little more around Tancred, billowing the capes of his friends.

"He's not worth it—he's trying to wind you up—leave him!" Lysander tried to force Tancred back to sitting down, but he wouldn't budge.

As all this was going on, Emory spotted that one of Manfred's crowd was showing no emotion. It was Edgar. Everyone else found the sport of winding up Storm Boy a treat, it was absolutely hilarious. But if Edgar was enjoying this, it didn't show. Once again, their eyes met and Emory hastily looked away, turning back to her friends to see Tancred break through Lysander's hold and stride across the field to where Asa stood.

Thunder clouds rolled across the sky; the wind became stronger. Everyone in the near vicinity was holding onto their hats and capes, a storm was building, they'd really done it now...

And then it stopped. Just like that. The clouds moved away revealing the pale yellow face of the sun, the breezes died down, and once again, Tancred was suddenly pale. He stopped striding, his cape hung flat over his shoulders: he looked both physically and emotionally drained.

Manfred was laughing now, in spite, and was encouraging the others around him to do the same.

Suddenly, Emory felt someone barge past her and she looked on in surprise. Emma Tolly raced across the field towards Tancred. This stopped the cackling briefly, as Manfred and Asa looked on in surprise. Emma gripped Tancred's upper arm and slowly led him away, but not before she had given the group death glares. "Leave him alone," she said, both loudly and sternly. Even Emory heard her.

There was a pause, and then more laughter as Emma led the poor boy confidently back across to where Emory and the others stood.

Then the bell rang, signalling the end of their freedom.

Tancred slowly recovered as they all walked back across to the school, smiling weakly and giving Emma's shoulder a squeeze. "Thanks," he murmured.

Just before they entered the Hall of No Talking, Emory heard someone mutter, "What was that all about?"

It was Fidelio, and it was directed at her. She was about to reply, but they passed through the doors and she had to satisfy herself with a shrug.

...

A hacking cough was heard, before a wheezy, "Come in!"

Grizelda Yewbeam and her three sisters crossed the threshold of Ezekiel Bloor's stifling chambers and stood in the doorway. If it had been anyone but Ezekiel, they would have felt rather inferior to the imposing shadows the four powerful ladies cast in the dim firelight, but old Ezekiel was far too used to the women that he barely gave them acknowledgment.

Staring into the fireplace, he called out greeting. "Ah, my four favourite sisters. Come further in, be seated."

Venetia and Eustacia occupied the other two high-backed leather chairs, whilst Lucretia and Grizelda settled themselves on the chaise-longue.

"Well, Ezekiel—what did you call us for that was so urgent?" enquired Lucretia at length.

"Ah, yes. It's about your great-nephew—or grandson, in your case," Ezekiel sneered, throwing a glance to Grizelda.

"What about him? We hear enough about his troublemaking from _your_ whining grandson as it is," said Lucretia.

Ezekiel bared his teeth at her before directing his gaze once more on the dwindling flames.

"Yes, well, I believe you know about our new student," said Ezekiel after a few minutes.

"You mean Edgar? Or the girl?"

"The girl—whatshername—"

"Emory."

"Yes, that one."

"What about her?"

"It appears—despite our best efforts—that she has acquired an affinity for your nephew and his friends," said Ezekiel with a sneer.

Venetia snorted. "I have no idea as to why he even has friends in the first place. He's pathetic, whiny, arrogant—"

"Yes, yes, there are many reasons as to why we hate Charlie Bone, and as much as I'd love to rant and rave about him all day long, there is a more pressing matter at hand!" cried Ezekiel. "That girl is endowed—but, as Lucretia here well knows, she did not divulge it during our first meeting—nor has she since..."

"So?"

"So," began Ezekiel, whose patience was clearly beginning to wear thin, "she's bound to have confided in Charlie by now. All you need to do is wheedle that information out of _him_."

Grizelda made a derisive noise.

"Something to say?" asked Ezekiel with a snarl. "Then please, _share it with the class_..." His voice dripped sarcasm.

"Only to point out the one flaw in your so-called 'brilliant plan'—Charlie doesn't trust us as far as he could throw us—which wouldn't be very far, I mean, have you seen his puny muscles..."

"Enough! Listen, all four of you are bright—and clever. You'll think of something. I don't care if you have to poison the brat, just get me that information! You may go." Ezekiel dismissed the women with a wave of his hand.

They got up and left without a word. Just as they were leaving, Ezekiel thought he heard one of them say, "How rude. Not even a cup of tea..." and then they were gone.

He sighed and stared at the embers. It was a long shot, but he needed to know. What was so special about Emory Adelaide?

**A/N: Ta-da! So, what do you think? Also, any idea on what Edgar Savage's "talent" is? Please speculate—and then let me know! Thanks in advance, milkshake x**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

**A/N: Thank you for your patience! (Or impatience :P) Enjoy!**

Friday eventually crawled around, and Olivia and Emma had a surprise in store for Emory.

During first break, the two girls got a hold of her and took her to one side.

"Hey, you two! What's up?"

"Nothing," said Olivia. "But Em and I were wondering if you wanted to spend the weekend with us—staying at Em's aunt's bookshop near the cathedral?"

Emory's eyes lit up. A weekend away from the Academy?

"That's sounds great!"

"Cool. So, is there any way of getting permission from Mr Wheezy living at the top of the tower?"

"I think so. My dad gave me a letter stating his permission to stay with whoever I want during the weekends. I'll just hand it in to Dr Bloor, so there shouldn't be any trouble."

Olivia and Emma just looked at each other.

"Okay, good luck with that. I'd go and do it as soon as you can. Do you have any free time today?"

"Um, I think so. History was cancelled today, so I'll go and give it to him then."

"Awesome." Only Emory didn't think it was awesome. It meant she wouldn't be spending time with a certain Mr Gunn, of whom she was becoming extremely fond... But she said nothing, and the three girls rejoined the others for the remainder of break.

...

The transaction went smoothly between Emory and the headmaster; although Emory noticed he seemed almost reluctant to let her go. She shook aside the notion. _The Bloors don't have the power to keep me here forever! _she thought. But then a doubt crept in. _Do they?_

...

It was a rather cold and miserable Saturday morning when Charlie awoke, and shivering, he crept out of bed.

Looking at his alarm clock, he blanched, and then furrowed his eyebrows angrily.

"Mum!" he yelled hoarsely. "Why'd you wake me up at _7:30_ _in the morning_?"

"Because your aunts are here," Amy Bone called back.

Charlie sank back onto his bed.

"Oh dear."

...

When Charlie opened the door to the dining room, he was greeted by four pairs of piercing, narrowed eyes staring back at his ruffled hair and his un-tucked shirt that he'd thrown on in hurry to get dressed.

Charlie narrowed his eyes slightly: both sides knew enough about each other to have a mutual disliking and distrust of one another. Unfortunately, today, there was only one of Charlie and four of them.

"So Charlie," began his grandmother, Grizelda. "Enjoying your first few weeks back at Bloors? Working you hard are they?"

"I s'pose," Charlie muttered.

"Speak up boy!" said Lucretia sharply.

"Yes," said Charlie, a little louder.

"That's better."

"Let's cut to the chase," said Venetia, who was the youngest—and the most cunning. "You have a new friend. Emory, are we right?"

"Yes," said Charlie slowly, suddenly wary. What would his aunts want with her?

"Well, we want to know if you've noticed anything... 'off' with her," Venetia continued in a sickly sweet voice.

"Um, no," said Charlie. Suddenly it clicked with him: they wanted to know her endowment! Well, they certainly weren't going to get it out of _him_.

Now knowing their motives, Charlie relaxed a little. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.

Eustacia noticed his change of posture, and knew that he knew. _Not so easy to fool now, is he? _she thought with a snarl.

"What is the girl's endowment?" Eustacia asked harshly.

Venetia turned to her sister, looking shocked.

"Oh, get over yourself Venetia," snapped Eustacia. "The boy's not as easy to fool now he's older. And due to certain... events," she added, her lip curling.

Charlie gave a slight nod of satisfaction. So they had noticed?

"I don't know," he said simply. "We're not close enough friends yet for her to feel she can confide in us. Besides," he added, feeling a little bolder, "it's none of your business."

"How dare you!" screeched Lucretia. "Insolent little—"

"Calm down Lucretia!" said Grizelda, standing up. "It's obvious the boy won't tell us. But we have ways and means," she continued slyly, catching Charlie's triumphant smile. "Someone will talk. Even if it is by force."

With that final threat left hanging in the air, the four sisters departed haughtily, slamming the front door behind them.

Charlie let out a sigh of relief and sank lower in his chair. Suddenly Maisie, Charlie's other, much kinder grandmother poked her head round the door.

"What on earth did they want?" she asked.

Charlie shrugged.

"Well, I suggest you get back into bed. You've earned the lie-in this morning. How about I bring you some pancakes a bit later?"

Charlie rose off of the chair and stretched. "If it's all the same with you, Maisie, I think I'll have those pancakes now. I've got a few phone calls to make."

Maisie nodded, and with a final grin, she backed out of the door. "Plate of pancakes for one, coming up!"

Charlie smiled briefly, before heading towards the phone in the hall. If the Yewbeam aunts were on the prowl, then people needed to know. And there was only one place he could be safe discussing such a topic: the Pet's Cafe.

...

Another teenager had been woken early that Saturday morning, for an equally unpleasant grilling session.

Dr Bloor paced the study, whilst Manfred reclined in the chair on the other side of his desk.

"And you're sure?"

"_Yes_," said Manfred exasperatedly. "How many times? I'm positive Bone knows, as does the rest of that little group, but she hasn't confided in anyone else. _I don't know_."

Dr Bloor gave a heavy, frustrated sigh. "Very well. Get out of here. But be prepared; we're going to have a meeting in Grandfather's study tonight, and it involves you."

Manfred nodded before slinking out of his father's study. _Back to bed,_ he thought grimly.

...

That evening, the firelight flickered and danced on the walls of Ezekiel Bloor's quarters. Manfred was the last to arrive; pudding was hard to drag himself away from.

"Sit down, sit down," wheezed his great-grandfather.

Manfred sat and glanced at the other familiar faces; his father and the Yewbeam Aunts.

"Once again," began Ezekiel, "Charlie Bone is being stubborn and we're going to have to be clever in order to get information out of him and his friends."

"Why don't we use Savage?" suggested Manfred. "I'm pretty sure that his endowment will come in handy. Just, don't put him anywhere near me. He gives me the chills." He gave a small shudder.

Ezekiel rolled his eyes. Being un-endowed, he was unaware of the feelings instilled in those who got too close to Edgar Savage.

"Of course we intend to use the boy," he said. "But... how?"

"_I _have an idea," said Lucretia. "My great-nephew is fiercely loyal. Surely he would reveal what he knows when a friend's life is at stake."

Mr Bloor's eyes grew wide and bright and he leaned forward in his chair.

"Who did you have in mind?"

"Well, since kidnapping children is illegal, I know just the person."

Manfred wanted to point out that _any_ kidnapping is illegal, but he felt his opinion would not be welcome. So he sat and listened in silence as Lucretia Yewbeam's rather ingenious plan unfolded...

**A/N: Reviews welcome! **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait, I've had a lot on recently :) All gone now :D And a special thanks to my faithful reviewer, Venetia Yewbeam! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 9**

The rest of the weekend passed uneventfully for all concerned. Emory was taken on a whirlwind tour of the city by Emma and Olivia; Charlie slept in almost the whole of Sunday morning (to make up for the early disturbance he'd suffered the day before) and the Yewbeam Aunts plotted.

So nothing unusual, then.

The following Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday passed equally uneventfully, much to Emory's disappointment. She was happy to be settling in so well, but with no mysterious summons to the Bloor's headquarters, life was almost boring. Stagnant. Even the so-called "bad guys" left the alone – mostly. Emory still felt a little shivery around Edgar though. She felt she knew what his endowment was, but she wasn't going to say anything, lest she really annoy her new-found friends.

Over that week, she got to hear their stories – like that time that Charlie's Uncle Paton blasted all the windows out of the Academy, and when Emma was locked up by Manfred after discovering her true identity, and when Olivia first discovered her own endowment.

"Wow," she had said, after hearing about Billy's close escape from the de Greys. "Sounds like you have adventures every other day."

"Yeah," Lysander had said, as he leaned against the wall signalling the start of the ruins. "But we're going in for a quiet year this year, aren't we guys?"

Everyone else had bobbed their heads in agreement. Emory's grin had faltered a little. _I want adventures too! _she had thought desperately, but then it occurred to her that adventures happen when you least expect them too. _The problem is, how do you "not expect" an adventure when you're really expecting one all the time? _Emory had shaken her head a little. _Sometimes I despair of my own thoughts. Shut up, brain!_

Little did she know, adventure was just around the corner, and it started with two scheming families…

…

Dr Bloor was in a bad mood. He paced up and down in his study, waiting for Lucretia Yewbeam to tell him that everything was set. _For her sake, _he thought menacingly, _it had better be_.

Two minutes later, there came a knock on the door.

"Enter!" he barked.

The door creaked open and there stood the imposing form of Lucretia Yewbeam. She made her way in, after carefully shutting the door behind her.

"Well? Is everything prepared?"

"Dr Bloor. We are Yewbeams. When we say something will be done, it will be done. Everything is ready."

"And what about the Savage boy? Did he agree?"

"Of course! What choice did he have? Tomorrow, it will begin."

"Excellent." There was silence for a few moments as Dr Bloor stared out of the dark window that looked out over the rest of the Academy. Not that he could see much, of course. Suddenly, he seemed to remember that he had company. Turning around, he gave Lucretia a dismissing hand-wave. "You may go now."

Lucretia pursed her lips, but said nothing as she retreated from the office.

If looks could kill, Dr Bloor would have been a pile of ashes and bones on the floor.

…

That weekend, when Charlie got home from school, he was greeted by Maisie who informed him that his Uncle had gone walkabouts. Charlie shrugged; Uncle Paton did this all the time.

"Funny thing, though," continued Maisie thoughtfully, "he never left a note explaining where he'd gone. He usually does, doesn't he?"

Charlie gave another shrug as he settled down in front of the TV to catch up on the football match he'd missed that week. "Probably planning a surprise for someone," he said thickly, his mouth full of jam sandwich. Swallowing, he added, "Isn't it Miss Ingleton's birthday soon?"

Maisie sighed. "Perhaps you're right. I'm fussing over nothing, as usual. Now no more food, Charlie Bone. I want you to eat your tea tonight."

…

Two weeks went by, and Emory continued to spend each weekend with Emma Tolly and her aunt. She got used to the Saturday afternoons spent mostly at the Pet's Café, and was growing especially close to one Fidelio Gunn…

Adventures were the last thing on her mind at this point. What with school work, new friends and a possible new crush, Emory was settling for the relatively average life her parents had envisaged by sending her to boarding school. Which is why Fate decided to throw something in her way that would send her world tumbling upside-down, and it started the weekend before the last week of term…

…

"I'm really sorry Emory; but Aunty and I are going away this weekend. I hope you don't mind —maybe Olivia can invite you round to hers?"

"Sorry, no can do—my mum's off to a movie premiere and it's a 'plus one' invitation. I'll tell you all about it when I get back."

"Um, yeah, my mum's against me having girls over for sleepovers; for obvious reasons. Sorry."

And so it went on. Eventually Emory was forced to conclude that her weekend would be spent at the Academy this time. At least she'd have Billy for company, right?

"Err… Actually, Charlie said I could spend the weekend at his. But we're all meeting up at the Pet's Café on Sunday. Don't miss it!"

Emory sighed, trying her best to look as unbothered as possible. "Don't worry, I won't."

The final bell rang on Friday, and children rushed out to the buses. Emory stood in the drive, waving everyone off, promising she'd meet them on Sunday, before heading slowly back into the now silent school.

She ate alone in the dining hall that evening; not even the Bloors were there. Normally she'd be puzzled, but the depressing thoughts of spending a day and half by herself kept her from pondering such an abnormality.

Then suddenly, a thought occurred to her. Explore! Billy and Charlie and even Olivia had done as much during their detentions; why not spend her weekend in the same way?

Resolved, and feeling much better about her situation, Emory ate the rest of her meal with a determined gleam in her eye. What would her exploring uncover in such an old, creepy building?

What indeed…

…

Saturday was downcast when Emory awoke the next morning. The excitement in her stomach meant she wasn't hungry; grabbing a torch, she made her way quietly down to the dining hall. Good, the Bloors weren't there. So they wouldn't notice her absence. But that meant they could be anywhere: Emory was going to have to be a lot more careful.

Gripping her torch a little tighter, she headed back to the hall and made her way back up the staircase. Then, instead of turning left towards the dormitories, she turned right.

After various twists and turns, the corridor branched off in three different directions. After quickly doing "eeni meeni miini moh", she switched on the torch and headed off towards the left.

The corridor got narrower, and lights got dimmer; with a jolt she realised they were no longer electric—they were gas lamps.

Creaks and groans made Emory jump often; she was heading further and deeper into the school. _Maybe I should have left a trail of bred crumbs—am I going to remember my way out of here? _she wondered.

Suddenly, there came a huge BANG from above her. She screamed. Then the banging began again, and a muffled voice. Emory began backing slowly away down the corridor, back towards the safety of electric lights, when that little voice in her brain spoke up. _You wanted adventure, and this is what happens when you come across it? Coward!_

Frowning in spite of herself, Emory fought back. _I am NOT a coward. I'll show you! _

Too fired up to care that she was arguing with a voice in her head, she suddenly powered forward, determined to find some kind of staircase that would lead her upwards.

She soon found one; now the banging was louder, and the muffled voice a little less muffled. Someone was trapped up there.

The staircase was old, and made of stone. The middle of each step dipped slightly; worn down by years of walking. It was twisty too; rather like the inside of a lighthouse.

Up and up and up... Just as Emory was beginning to wonder whether the stairs would ever come to an end and whether she'd made a huge mistake, she reached the top. It was another corridor. But this time, only one gas lamp flickered. She flashed the torch ahead of her, and its beam fixed upon a door at the very end of the corridor.

Now very wary, she crept along the moth-eaten carpets, treading lightly. But the floors were flagstones, so she made virtually no noise as she approached the door.

There it was; and now there was no mistaking the fact that this was no ghost. Beyond the door was a human being, held against their will.

Reaching for the tarnished brass handle of the door, Emory suddenly stopped. What if there was a reason this person was here? What if they were crazy? What if they were some kind of criminal? What if they were dangerous?

_Coward, coward, _came the soft taunting voice in her head.

Utterly determined, Emory grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. The hinges creaked and groaned as if in immense pain. Emory swung the torch around the room.

It was bare. And I mean, totally bare. No bed, no furniture, nothing. Just a dark room, with only one arched window high above. All that did was cast a dim grey light onto the wall.

But then Emory saw what was making all the noise. Attached to the walls were some chains, and on the end of those chains was a man.

He looked tall, with dark hair. He was wearing a dark coat, but now he seemed to be covered in what looked like chalk dust. He had dark circles under his eyes, which he was now attempting to shield from the light of Emory's torch. Since she'd opened the door, the man had fallen silent; _Probably thought I was one of his captors_, she rationalised.

But then the man spoke. "Ugh, turn that light out. It hurts my eyes; I've been in darkness for so long now."

"Oh, sorry." Emory hastened to turn off the torch, and by the light of the one flickering gas lamp in the corridor, slowly edged her way towards the man.

"Don't worry, I don't bite," he said. "I'm so glad you heard the noise I was making; let me guess… detention?"

"Actually, no. The Bloors are my official guardians now, since my parents have to work elsewhere. I'm stuck here for the weekend."

"Ah."

Then it occurred to Emory that she had no idea who she was talking to.

"I'm sorry… who are you?"

"Oh, right, yes, of course," said the mystery man. "My name is Paton Yewbeam."

**A/N: Ta-da! The plot thickens, quite literally… Please review, would make my day/evening/week, whatever. milkshake x**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

He weakly held out a hand for Emory to shake, which she did tentatively, trying not to laugh.

"I'm Emory, Emory Adelaide. I know you; you're Charlie's uncle."

"Nice to meet you Emory. Oh, so you know Charlie? Great, well, let him know I'm here then. And then get him to bring reinforcements; he'll know who I mean."

"Reinforcements?"

"Yes—I don't know whether you've noticed, but I'm not actually meant to be here."

"Oh – of course! What happened to you?"

"Well, I was taking a midnight walk, to let off a little steam, when it suddenly grew very cold. Standing next to a lamppost, I saw the shadow of a boy step out from behind a wall. He looked very unfriendly and I made a move to walk past him when he blocked my path deliberately. 'Going somewhere?' he said, and then that Manfred kid came up behind him. I turned to the lamppost in order to shatter it and make my escape, but I couldn't do it! I felt drained, and cold, but the power would not come. And then everything went pitch black and I found myself in here."

"Wow." Emory sat back on the floor, a little surprised. "And I thought stuff like this only happened in books…"

"Yeah, well, with the Bloors it's a little different." Paton gave a shaky laugh, before launching into a coughing fit.

"Are you okay?" asked Emory, concerned.

"Fine. I'm just fine."

Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. "Um, Mr Yewbeam? What did you mean when you said you were going to shatter the lamppost? You're not some kind of vandalising criminal, are you?"

Paton really laughed this time. "No, no. Although, I suppose I am a vandal of sorts. I'm a power-booster," he explained. "I do lights, mainly. It's an utterly useless endowment, I'm afraid. I go out on night walks to avoid the general public. I'm very rarely seen in the day."

Only then did Emory recall something as she travelled to Bloors that first night.

…_Some of the lampposts seemed to be missing light bulbs, and that the glass surrounding them was smashed..._

Smiling gently, Emory said, "I think I've seen some of your handiwork before."

"Yes, well…" There was a pause.

"Are you endowed too?"

"Me?" Emory seemed startled at the question. "Yes… as a matter of fact, my endowment is a little like yours… only slightly more useful, I suppose. I can control electrical items with my mind. It's not telekinesis, but it's a mind-power of sorts. Watch."

Emory produced her torch and held it up. She concentrated briefly, as Paton watched on expectantly, but nothing happened.

She frowned, and tried again. "That's odd…"

Paton was frowning too, but in a more thoughtful way. "Emory, switch that torch on the normal way."

"Wait, I can do this!"

"I'm sure you can, but just humour me. Switch the torch on please."

Emory sighed and clicked the button. The beam shone out, and it was Paton's turn to concentrate. But again, nothing happened.

"I thought so," he muttered.

"Thought what?"

"When that first boy stepped out and it went cold, I knew something was off about him. Then, when I couldn't burst the light, I could tell it had something to do with him. I think he's endowed; and I think his endowment is that he can stop others' from working."

"I knew it!" cried Emory triumphantly. "I conveyed these same suspicions to Charlie and the others, but they didn't believe me!"

Paton chuckled quietly to himself. "I expect Charlie's so fed up of adventures, he didn't want to believe. But another thing; I swear something about this clothing… the only thing I recognise is my coat. This jumper's new. One of my sisters is a particularly good seamstress; I'm pretty sure she's found a way to put that boy's endowment into this clothing. That's why I can't burst the torch. And I suspect that's why you can't switch it on and off with your mind."

Emory sat in silence, taking it all in. _Yes! I finally have an adventure on my hands! _But now that it was here, she wasn't sure she wanted it so much. It didn't seem at all like the ones she'd read about.

Suddenly, Paton glanced up, alarmed. "Emory," he murmured quietly, but it was too late.

"Well, well, well. Look who stuck her nose where it shouldn't be."

Swinging around to face the doorway, Emory reeled back and stared wide-eyed at the figure in the doorway. It was Manfred Bloor.

"So, Adelaide, you've discovered our little secret. Still happy that we're your guardians? Hmph, didn't think so. Do you know what? I think you need to have a little word with my father. Yewbeam… enjoy your dinner." Manfred tossed a hunk of stale bread at Paton, who ignored it and glared straight back at his captor.

"You won't get away with this," he hissed. "Run, Emory!"

Adrenaline shot through Emory's veins and she made a bolt for the door, but Manfred caught her round the waist. "Nice try," he snarled. "But you're coming with me."

Taking her wrist, he slammed the door to Paton's cell shut and locked it, before pulling a struggling Emory back down the corridors.

When they reached the staircase, Manfred stopped and wrenched on her arm, which achieved the desired effect: she stopped pulling.

"Now listen to me!" he hissed. "You continue to struggle and you'll send both of us to our deaths on these stairs. You either come quietly, or I will be forced to use hypnosis. You wouldn't want to look into my eyes, would you?"

Emory gave him a frightened glance before shaking her head.

"Good. Now, come on."

The rest of the walk to Dr Bloor's office was quiet. Emory trailed miserably behind Manfred, who still had a grip on her arm. After being called to enter the room, Manfred pulled Emory ahead of him and pushed her into the room, before following and shutting the door behind them.

"Look who I caught snooping, father."

Dr Bloor whirled around and saw a wide-eyed Emory staring back at him. "Well, well," he said softly. "Have fun exploring, did we?" Emory lowered her head to the floor.

"Did she discover anything?" Dr Bloor directed this to his son.

"Yes; Charlie's uncle," Manfred replied grimly.

"Ah. I see. Miss Adelaide – take a seat." It was not a request. Emory hurriedly took the chair opposite Dr Bloor's desk and sat staring at it.

"Look at me."

Emory slowly raised her head. Dr Bloor did not look angry, but his eyes were flashing dangerously. But she also saw a hint of what looked like… triumph.

"Miss Adelaide, would you care to tell me what your endowment is?"

Emory frowned, puzzled. Wasn't she supposed to be getting put in detention forever at this moment for discovering something she shouldn't have?

Raising her chin slightly, she said, "No, not really."

"Are you sure?" asked Dr Bloor slowly. "I wouldn't want anything to happen to your new friend upstairs, you know." He followed this with a pointed look at Manfred who was standing in the doorway.

Emory's eyes widened as she realised what he meant. She swivelled to face Manfred who was grinning back at her before turning back to the headmaster.

"Fine. Fine. But I swear, if you hurt him—"

"I wouldn't dream of touching a hair on his head," said Dr Bloor.

"Okay, then. My endowment… it's—similar to Mr Yewbeam's," Emory began hesitantly. She stared at the floor as she continued, "I can—control electrical items with my mind. Alter volume, and brightness, and such."

From in front of her she could hear what sounded like a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, for that very valuable piece of information, Miss Adelaide. You can go now."

Emory looked up sharply. "What? That's it? How can I go, knowing Charlie's uncle is still trapped up there?"

Mr Bloor looked at her in the eye, and said quietly, "You were warned, were you not, not to go looking for things that did not concern you? And now that you have, you have put yourself at risk. You could have been completely oblivious to our prisoner upstairs, but no! You are now to be followed, and watched, because we know who you spend your time with, and we know you cannot be trusted not to tell them. So from now on, weekend privileges are cancelled. You will spend all of your time here."

"You can't do that!" Emory cried. "I can't believe what you've done… you'll pay for this—"

"Silence girl!" roared Dr Bloor. Flecks of spittle flew from his mouth, and his eyes were wide and staring. "If you hadn't have gone looking for trouble, you wouldn't be in this mess now! As I said, weekend privileges are cancelled, and if you tell anyone of what you know, or that we know of your endowment, I can promise you your new friend Paton will not be so cheery in the future! We can do things here, Miss Adelaide, which would chill you to your core. If you want Paton Yewbeam to remain pain-free, then you will do as I say. You may leave."

Gob smacked, Emory rose from her chair. She quietly walked across the room, her head held high, but when she got to the door, Manfred bent to whisper in passing, "We'll be watching you." Shivering, Emory hurried past him and into the corridors. Running back to her dormitory, she ran to her bed and promptly burst into tears.

_This isn't how I imagined anything at all! _she thought silently in despair. _This wasn't supposed to happen, and now… and now…_

Slowly, Emory drifted into fitful sleep. Dreams of kidnappings, torture and murder roamed around in her head. It was not the start to the year she had hoped for…

**A/N: Review please! I will love you forever and ever and ever! (Probably.) Good or bad? Anything I can improve on? Drop me a line :D**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: 23.11.11 RE-READ CHAPTER 10! I MISSED OUT A VITAL PART OF THE STORY, SO GO BACK AND READ IT PLEASE! (For a limited time, the new bit will be in bold.) That is all. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 11**

Monday morning rolled around grey and dreary as Emory dragged herself out of bed.

The majority of Sunday had been spent in her dormitory, doing her homework and attempting to write a letter to her parents. She gave up in the end, because there was no way she could put the Bloors' plot in a positive light:

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_My new friend Charlie's uncle has been kidnapped, and now the Bloors know about what I can do, and they've threatened me._

_Miss you!_

_Love, Emory._

This, along with several other attempts, ended up in the bin. She had ended up in bed around 7pm, dreading the next morning.

With heavy treads, Emory got herself washed and dressed before heading downstairs for breakfast in the hall. Since Saturday lunchtime, she had seen neither hide nor hair of the evil family that ran the school, and for this she was grateful. The same still held true when she reached the hall that morning. Empty.

Taking her meagre breakfast of porridge and a soggy slice of toast to a table, she sat and ate in complete silence, trying to work out what to say to Charlie and her friends when they arrived…

…

"You've been awfully quiet this week, Emory? Is everything okay?"

It was Wednesday break time, and the gang as usual were hanging around the castle ruins. Emory looked up at Emma, whom the question had come from, and smiled.

"No, I'm fine. I think I might be coming down with something, that's probably it."

Satisfied, Emma turned back to the others. Emory resumed her sullen expression. Everything was not fine at all. Ever since the start of lessons on Monday morning, she had found herself being tailed by at least one of the Bloors' lackeys – Joshua Tilpin, Dorcas Loom, Asa Pike, one (or both) of the Branko twins, and occasionally, even Manfred himself. The only time she could shake them off was during break and lunch, but even then they had their eyes on her. Emory sighed as the bell rang to signal the start of the next lesson.

As the group trudged back towards the school, battling against the shrill autumn winds, one person noticed the sigh and frowned. Olivia Vertigo made a mental note to talk to Charlie. Soon.

…

"Emory… Is everything okay?" whispered Charlie as they walked down the halls towards the King's room for homework.

"Yes, why?"

"Well, Liv talked to me today and she says she knows when something's not right. And something's not right, is it?"

Emory sighed again. Had she been that obvious?

"Well, I suppose… but, I can't talk about it. To anyone." She glanced behind her and saw the Branko twins only a few paces behind them. She sped up her walking pace so Charlie could reply. His brow was furrowed slightly, before it suddenly cleared.

"Emory, could you meet me at the bottom of the stairs of the Music dorms tonight at 11? There's someone I want you to meet."

Frowning, but suddenly burning with curiosity, she replied in the affirmative, but before she could enquire further, they'd reached the Red King's room, and silence fell upon them both.

…

It was impossible to concentrate on her homework after that. She knew she needed to get it done, but there was that one sentence that kept nudging its way to the forefront of her mind. _"There's someone I want you to meet." _Who? And why did it have to happen after lights out? Was this person living secretly in the school, undetected by the Bloors?

All of these questions pervaded Emory's mind until her homework was almost virtually undoable. Luckily, Manfred turned a blind eye to her that night, knowing full well there was no way she could communicate with so many eyes watching, and with the silence rule in place.

As soon as 8 o' clock rolled around, Emory departed the room with a curt, knowing nod to Charlie, who repeated her actions, and both came to a mutual agreement. Tonight. At 11.

…

That night, as Emory lay in her bed looking up at the ceiling, she was determined not to fall asleep. Not that there was any chance of that; she was so excited at the prospect of perhaps being able to tell someone about what was going on, her eyes remained open until she glanced at her clock which finally said 11:00.

Grabbing her dressing gown and tiptoeing down the stairs, she saw a figure already waiting. Suddenly aware that it might not be Charlie, she slowed down and craned her neck to try and make out the features better. The figure turned to face her abruptly; Emory blanched but then sighed in relief as she saw it was definitely Charlie.

"You ready?" he whispered.

Emory nodded; the anticipation was too much for her to even speak.

Silently they made their way down towards the hall. There was a close call when Emory tripped over the foot of a suit of armour, resulting in some clanking noises, but after making sure no one was coming, they continued on down to the kitchens.

Emory was now very confused; did Charlie drag her down there just for a midnight snack? But wait—he was leading off the kitchens towards a cupboard.

"Charlie, what—" Opening the door, he ushered her inside. Emory stared, agape. For instead of a cluster of brooms and mops, what she saw ahead of her was dimly lit corridor – but unlike the one she had discovered that weekend, this one was comforting and warm. Charlie gave her a nudge and she set her feet in motion. In no time at all she was standing at another door, and here Charlie made her stand to one side as he knocked.

"Who's there?" came a female voice, and Charlie replied. Suddenly, the door opened, and there stood the cook who had introduced herself to Emory when she first started at Bloors.

"Hello, Charlie – and hello, you're Emory, aren't you? Any particular reason she's here?" she added, turning to Charlie.

"Well, there's something she can't tell us… but she can tell you, right?"

Cook visibly relaxed and smiled. "Of course she can, dear. Come on in, I was just putting the kettle on."

Emory stepped into the cosiest room she had ever seen. A few tattered but comfortable-looking armchairs lay dotted about, with a stove and a small kitchen area. She sat down in the nearest armchair and let Cook make her a drink, before telling both her and Charlie what she had been sworn to secrecy. About how she had found Uncle Paton that weekend, and how he was unable to get himself out, and how the Bloors found her and made her tell them what she could do.

Charlie got quite angry when he found out about his uncle. "Is there nothing they won't do to control people!" he almost shouted.

Eventually Cook calmed him down and Emory continued with her story.

Towards the end she got a little teary. "I'm sorry, Charlie. I wish I wasn't so stupid to get caught; I wish I'd been braver and not told them what I can do. But they were going to hurt your uncle, and I couldn't see—"

"Emory, it's okay," reassured Charlie. "We've all been in tough situations before; you're not the first to fall victim to the Bloors. There are plenty of unsavoury characters around, right Cook? Not just the Bloors."

Cook nodded. "And don't I know it! Don't you worry Emory—now we know, we can do something about it. Good thing that Olivia's got some discerning ability in her—or we might never have known! Now back to bed, both of you. It's very late, and I wouldn't want you sleeping it off in class. Go on, scoot!" She playfully scooted them out of her room before saying one last thing to Emory in a grave voice.

"Emory, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone I live here. Not even the Bloors know, and I'd like it to stay that way."

Emory nodded. "I promise."

"Thank you. Goodnight you two." And with that, the door softly closed behind them.

The journey back to the dorms was in silence once again. But when they reached the staircase to part ways, Emory whispered, "Thank you Charlie. I'll make it up to you; we'll rescue your uncle, don't worry."

Charlie smiled. "Of course we will. And what's to make up about? You told us, and now we know. That's the main thing. Thank you, Emory."

And with a small, final wave, he quietly jogged up the stairs to the boys' dorm.

Emory imitated his wave before heading up to the girls' dorm. The only sound that reached her ears when she got there was the quiet snoring of other students, and the odd hoot of an owl from outside. Snuggling down under her duvet, she gave a small, satisfied sigh, and thanked the stars for having such wonderful friends.

**A/N: Ta-da! So what do you think? Review please, and I shall send you virtual butterflies :D**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Um, hi? *checks last update – OCTOBER LAST YEAR?! Whoops* So, sorry times a million? Thank you to everyone who is sticking with me, I'm sooooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry for being a) a bit lazy and b) super busy (which I technically cannot help…) I hope this chapter makes up for any pain I have caused – and I swear chapter 13 will be even better!**

**Muchos gracias for the reviews in advance! :D**

**Chapter 12**

It had been agreed by Charlie and Emory that the others needed to know about this as soon as possible. But with Emory being tailed twenty-four seven, it was going to be a little difficult. It was decided that Charlie ought to tell the majority of people, and so Thursday break-time, Emory broke off from the group with Emma and Olivia as Charlie told the guys about what had happened, in order to divert the Bloors from the main group. Later, Lysander and Tancred filled in the girls and so everyone knew.

…

Friday morning, and Emory awoke to the sounds of people packing, ready to return home for the weekend. She sighed quietly, wishing she could be doing the same.

At breakfast, as she sat alongside Charlie, Fidelio and Gabriel, the three discussed as quietly as they could what to do about Uncle Paton. It was decided that break would be the best time to discuss anything, and they finished their meagre portions in silence.

…

The morning would have gone painfully slowly if it hadn't been for double history with Fidelio. He and Emory were becoming quite a team, and were developing much better methods of communication that avoided being caught by the authority. Fortunately, Emory had settled in so well by now that Mr Pope left her well alone, which meant that she and Fidelio could get on with _not _doing their work in peace.

When break time finally rolled around, Emory could feel the familiar prickling of skin that told her several pairs of eyes were watching her as she made her way across the lawn towards the castle ruins where most of the others were already waiting.

"We're just waiting for Tancred and Lysander to get here," muttered Charlie as she approached. Emory nodded in response, and it wasn't long before the two tallest members of the group were seen to be striding across the grounds, their capes rippling in the chill December wind.

"So… what are we going to do?" began Olivia. "We can't exactly go busting into the academy now and demand we get him back! Oooh, I know Charlie! Why don't we ask your uncle, maybe he can…" Olivia faltered as she realised what she was saying. "…Help?" she finished lamely. "Ah."

"Yeah, nice going," said Tancred, giving her a nudge.

"Well, you come up with something then!" she retorted hotly.

"Guys, please!" said Fidelio, moving to stand between the two. Olivia's face was tinged with red and miniature lightning bolts flickered and crackled around Tancred's hair. "I'd just like to state the obvious. We're not going to get anything done by ourselves here; we need professional help. And second; Emory, no offence, but you're going to be attracting the wrong attention."

"I know." Emory nodded again; she had expected this. "It's alright, I'll stay here this weekend while you lot plot. I'll see if I can sneak your uncle some more food, though."

"Hey, I never said you weren't to be included in this!" said Fidelio with a smile. "In fact, you're going to be an integral part of leading our "friends" over there astray…"

Intrigued, the group leaned in closer and Fidelio explained his plan…

…

Sunday morning dawned bright and early, but Emory was already up. She leaned against the headboard and watched the sun stretch and yawn as it made an effort to climb higher and higher into the sky.

Emory's tummy was under constant attack from swarms of butterflies, which occasionally made her double over a little. Today was Phase 1 of "Rescue Charlie's Uncle Paton Before It's Too Late", and Emory knew a large part of this was down to her. She had to deliberately mislead the Bloors in order to put them on a false trail.

After breakfast, Emory wandered aimlessly back to the dorms, where she packed as much of her stuff into a small bag as she could. She wouldn't be returning for a little while.

She checked her watch: 12:25. Time to go.

She jogged a few floors down, but slowed herself up when she came to the staircase leading to the Main Hall. Peering around the corner, she made sure no one was in the vicinity before making her way carefully down the stairs. She reached the door and was about to sigh with relief when—

"Where do you think _you're _going?"

Emory slowly turned around. Asa Pike stood a few metres away; his head was cocked to one side as glared at her suspiciously.

Emory lifted her head in a haughty manner, before retorting, "None of your business."

"I think you'll find it is. Oh, Manfred…!" Asa pretended to call for his boss up the stairs, and Emory flinched. Clearly Asa didn't know that her weekend privileges had been suspended, but if Manfred showed up, it wouldn't be too long before he did.

"Okay, okay," said Emory, trying to sound as guilty as possible. "I'm headed for the Pet's Café. I'm meeting a few friends there."

"Oh." Asa's face fell; he looked like he had been denied an enormous treat. "Fine. Go."

Relieved that her plan had gone well thus far, she pulled open the front doors and vanished into the courtyard, heading for the front gate. She knew it wouldn't be long before she had someone on her tail…

…

Manfred appeared at the top of the staircase and watched Asa close the door, shaking his head slightly as he did so.

"Who was that?"

Asa looked up, startled at the presence of another human being.

"Oh, that Emory girl. She said she was meeting friends at the Pet's Café."

Instead of seeing a look on nonchalance on the youngest Bloor's face, Asa watched as his fellow student seemed to contort into some mad, raving animal. He looked a bit like an angry rottweiler…

"You _idiot_!" shouted Manfred. "She's not allowed out – my dad revoked her weekend privileges! Now get out there and BRING HER BACK!"

Completely cowed at this burst of rage, Asa backed out the door, almost bowing and scraping. "Of course! Right away! Got it…"

Manfred shook his head in disbelief as he watched his "friend" back out of the building. _I need to get some better lackeys_…

…

Emory had heard Manfred's burst of rage. Although she hadn't been able to make out exactly what he'd said, she was pretty sure it had something to do with her. Realising she had less time than before, she started to sprint, following the crudely drawn map that Fidelio had made her. Very quickly she slowed down and leant against a wall; she was not very fit. But with determination, she kept up (at great pain) a brisk jog the rest of the way to the café in Frog Street.

Arriving outside the particularly noisy café, Emory doubled up with her hands on her knees, and looked at her watch. 12:30. Right on time.

Looking up, she smiled at the bouncer who smiled back – he remembered her from before.

"Here, I was told to give this to you," he said, and fished a small gerbil out of his pocket.

Emory took it from him and gave it a cuddle; "Thanks," she replied, and walked inside. _So Gabriel _did _remember_…

She took a seat near the window that looked out onto Frog Street, and sure enough, about two minutes later she saw a familiar ginger-haired student, wearing a too-long overcoat, a pair of sunglasses and a large-brimmed hat. She rolled her eyes at how poorly disguised Asa was, especially considering he was a drama student.

Only moments later, the little bell by the door rang and in walked Tancred Torsson. He scanned the room and when he had located Emory, he came and sat next to her. Over the next half an hour, everyone else turned up. Charlie, Fidelio, Emma and Olivia, Lysander, and finally, Gabriel.

As soon as Gabriel had finished munching on his chocolate and banana cookie, Charlie nodded to Emory. Making a big show of looking at her watch, she gathered her things and made her way to the counter of the café.

The owner of the shop, a man who seemed to strongly resemble a mouse, beamed at her and lifted the lid of the counter to let her pass. "Through the back door, dear," he murmured. Emory nodded her thanks and passed through into a very cosy little kitchen area, where a woman (presumably the wife of the café owner) was busying herself around various pots and pans on a stove.

The woman turned around, and on seeing Emory, positively beamed.

"So you're the one that everyone's been talking about!" she smiled as she offered Emory a seat. "I'm Mrs Onimous – that's my husband out there, we run the café – I have to say," she added in a more hushed voice, "you've made quite an impression on Mr Gunn."

"I—what?"

But at that moment, Charlie walked through the door into the kitchen. "The other's'll be through in a minute," he said to Mrs Onimous.

"Very good dear. I'm just putting the kettle on – you take a seat."

Charlie took the chair opposite Emory, and then frowned. "Are you okay?"

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just a little nervous about this, that's all."

"Don't worry, we've got everything planned. Nothing's going to go wrong."

Just then, Fidelio walked through the door and Emory felt herself flush even more.

"You're right, it is hot in here," he winked, upon noticing her red face.

Emory gave a giggle, and the three waited for the rest to take their turns walking behind the counter and into the small kitchen.

What she didn't notice was the small, secret smile and twinkle in Mrs Onimous' eye as she prepared the tea.

…

Lysander was the last through, and he was wiping a tear from his eye. "You should see Asa out there!" he laughed. "Looks absolutely gob-smacked, but of course he can't get in to investigate because he hasn't got an animal!"

"We'll just have to hope the Looms don't show up," muttered Emma.

"Oh, they won't – I heard Dorcas bragging about the weekend trip to the beach they were having this weekend," said Tancred, rolling his eyes.

Mr Onimous bounced through the door. "Ready to go, Fidelio?" he asked.

"Yep. Lead the way, Mr Onimous."

And he did just that. Behind a curtain in the kitchen was a little door, secured by a little wooden latch. Mr Onimous flicked it up, and it swung open with barely a creak. Everyone filed out, with Olivia bringing up the rear. Her hair today was a dull mousey blonde. ("Didn't want to draw unnecessary attention to myself.") From there, they took a right, then a left, then left again, then right, then left again, then right, until Emory felt completely disorientated.

"This is the oldest part of the city," said Mr Onimous as loudly as he dared. "I expect you can tell from all the cobbles."

Eventually, they wound up in front of a rather imposing building. Emory looked up and realised with a jolt of pleasure that they were at the cathedral. Finally she would get a chance to explore it! At this point, she was at the back of the line, and had been discussing the latest movie releases with Olivia – a passion they both shared.

Mr Onimous listened at the door very carefully, before giving it a tug. Stiff, but unlocked, the door swung open with a shuddering creak, and he led the way inside. As Olivia closed the door behind them, Fidelio whispered, "Now we can reveal our plan in peace. I figured this would be the best place – no one ever comes here –"

"Ah, Mr Onimous – and Fidelio Gunn. Oh, and everyone else. What a surprise to find you here."

Emory's eyes opened wide and she ducked behind Olivia.

From out of the shadows stepped none other than Dr Bloor.

**A/N: Dun dun duh! ****Reviews equal virtual hugs ! (And I give **_**the best **_**hugs. Seriously.)**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I would just like to sincerely apologise for my severe lack of updating. Here is a slightly longer chapter to make up for it, and now that I am on holiday for three months, they should be coming a lot quicker! Thanks for being faithful and sticking with me thus far.**

**Chapter 13**

"Dr Bloor… what a – _pleasant_ surprise," said Mr Onimous (he was the first to recover from the shock). "I promised to show these youngsters the cathedral one day – used to play the organ here myself – gives the tour a more _personal _touch, don't you think?"

"I see…" said Dr Bloor. He looked suspiciously at the crowd of children in front of him, who were smiling and nodding their heads as if that wasn't the first time they'd heard that story.

Emory was desperately searching for a place to hide; Olivia nudged her towards the back of the organ, where there was a sizeable gap. Emory nodded and squeezed through as Olivia stepped in front to shield her from view.

"Yes, well, the Chaplain was just explaining the history of this area to me – it seems he found something important that was of relevance to the school in the vaults below."

"Oh? What was that?" asked Charlie before he could stop himself.

"None of your business!" snapped Dr Bloor. "Well… good day, Mr Onimous." Giving a curt nod, he turned on his heel and marched back into the darkness of the magnificent building. The exit light towards the back of the main room showed his silhouette leave. Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"Phew, glad that's over," said Fidelio. "Even so…"

"We're on it," said Tancred and Lysander together, cottoning on to the same thought pattern. The two of them spread out around the cathedral, to check they were really alone.

When the all clear was sounded, Olivia stepped aside to let Emory out, who was brushing away dirt and cobwebs and even removing the odd spider or two off her clothes.

Mr Onimous beckoned the group further on into the cathedral where there was a smaller room he wanted to use – the vestry – as this one echoed far too much. Fidelio fell into step beside Emory, who was still patting herself down.

"Here, you missed one," he said gently, and reached across to lift a spider away from her hair. Emory blushed deeply and smiled.

"Thanks."

"No problem." He grinned back.

Once everyone was settled into the side-room, Mr Onimous reached into a pocket inside his jacket and pulled out a very old piece of paper; so old, it appeared to be parchment.

"This here is of the utmost importance!" he began in a hushed voice. "Mrs Onimous came into possession of it some years ago, and had no need of it – until now."

"What is it?" asked Emma sombrely.

"A prophecy," he replied simply. "Foretelling the arrival of someone with a most_ unusual _but _powerful _endowment… and how they could be stopped. It seems that person has arrived."

As if she were a magnet, all eyes in the room seemed to gravitate towards Emory.

"What? It's not me… is it?"

"No, no. It's not you. Stop looking at her!" Everyone grinned and turned back to the café owner. "This prophecy was made a _very _long time ago, by an ancestor of our very own Lysander here. And it reads,

_Wrapped in sylver, it must bee,_

_To stoppe this monster, finde the key,_

_A foode source, nutt and pea,_

_The preventer of endowments, his ende shall bee. _

"What is _that _supposed to mean?" Tancred was the first to break the silence.

"Let me see it," said Olivia, and reached for the parchment.

"Careful, it's very old," said Mr Onimous, before gently handing it over.

"Well, whoever wrote this clearly didn't know how to spell," she muttered while glancing over the words.

Gabriel Silk leaned over her shoulder. "The only obvious-sounding part of the riddle is the third line. _'A foode source, nutt and pea'_. Surely that's meant to be a peanut, right?"

"Sounds good to me," said Mr Onimous. "That's what I thought myself when I first read it. So this so-called '_monster_''s downfall seems to be a peanut."

"But who's the poem referring to, if not Emory?" asked Fidelio.

"I've been doing some research," said Mr Onimous, sitting down and taking a bunch of papers from his pocket. Peering closely at them, he continued, "and it seems to be that the person this riddle refers to is someone from a branch of the Red King called 'Wilde'*. Is there anyone new at school that this could be?"

Everyone looked at each other and frowned, shaking their heads. No one at school had the surname of "Wilde".

Mr Onimous sighed. "Ah well. Maybe the cats were wrong."

Charlie frowned. "But the cats are never wrong." One or two others chimed in with this sentiment.

"I know. That's what makes this business all rather unsettling." Mr Onimous shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, before clearing his throat loudly. "Well, this is distracting us from our true aim. Charlie – we're going to rescue your uncle tonight, and this is how we're going to do it…"

…

"Emma, are you ready?" whispered Tancred as the two of them crouched behind a hedge near the wall surrounding Bloors Academy.

Emma nodded. "Now turn your back! I can't do it when people are looking!"

Tancred grinned at her, before doing as she asked. He only turned around when he heard a flutter of feathers and a small hoot. In front of him, the blonde-haired girl had been replaced by a small, light brown and white-speckled owl, specifically a Northern Saw-whet owl. Tancred peered up and over the wall by placing a foot in a small gap in the wall, before dropping back down and muttering, "Coast's clear. Good luck."

Giving Tancred a small hoot of gratitude, Emma (for that was who the bird was) took off into the night. She soared higher and higher, circling the school, until she saw what she was looking for. A small, arched window, etched into the school near the attics. She perched on the edge, making a spectacle of preening herself, whilst peering inside.

"—and if you complain about the food one more time, that's all you'll be getting for a week!" The silhouette of Manfred Bloor stood out in sharp relief in the doorway of the room, before he slammed the door shut and the room was plunged into darkness. Emma heard someone sigh, and knew then that she had the right room. She gave a loud hoot, hoping to the high heavens that the others had heard her, before floating down into the room and landing in a corner.

The bird was now no longer there, and in its place stood Emma Tolly in human form once again. She peered through the darkness and managed to locate the inky black figure of a thin, crouching man.

"Mr Yewbeam?" she asked tentatively.

The figure jerked upright. "Who's there?" he asked hoarsely.

"It's me, Emma Tolly. I'm here to get you out."

"You shouldn't have come! But," he added as Emma bent down to inspect the chains, "I'm glad you did." Emma gave him a brief smile before sighing in frustration.

"Eugh, they need a key. Listen, Mr Yewbeam, I'll be back soon." She walked back into the corner to change.

"Are the others with you? Charlie? What are they going to do?"

"Oh, you'll see," Emory said, smiling into the darkness. "Or rather, you'll hear, soon enough."

In seconds, an owl flew up to the window and back out into the night. Paton grinned to himself. "You'd better outdo yourself this time, Charlie. I'm counting on you."

…

"Are you sure you've got this, Olivia?"

"Yes, Lysander, thank you!"

"Mr Onimous, remind me why we can't actually set the school on fire again?"

Mr Onimous gave him a wry smile. "I think the answer to that is rather obvious, don't you, Mr Sage?"

"Will you be quiet back there? I can't concentrate with you lot nattering back there!"

"Sorry Liv."

"Yeah, you will be in a minute –"

"Hey, it's Emma!" Emory pointed to the emerging girl. "Well, how is he?"

"Not good. I came back 'cos we're going to need some keys. Those chains don't look that breakable."

"Well, shouldn't be too hard. We'll just nip into Dr Bloor's office, ask him nicely for the key, and head right on up."

"Ha _ha_, very funny Tancred."

"Look, you all know how dangerous this is," cut in Mr Onimous, trying to break up the banter before it turned into a full scale row. "But Charlie's uncle needs rescuing, and we're the only ones who can do it. Now let's focus, shall we?" Everyone nodded meekly. "Good. Now, when the school's been evacuated, Emma, you go with Emory to Dr Bloor's office and see if you can find those keys. Lysander, you'd better go with them just in case we have some unwanted guests."

"Sure thing, Mr O."

"Tancred, Olivia, are you ready?" Both nodded. "Good. The let's begin."

A distant rumble of thunder echoed across the sky. A flash of lightning streaked across the sky. As the storm got closer to the school, Tancred's clothing flapped and whipped around him more and more ferociously. After only a few minutes, the storm was right overhead. The windows reflected the frequent lightning flashes zipping down outside. Then, from the ground floor, barely visible in the dark, small curls of smoke seemed to billow and swell within the dining hall. This was made more visible by the pulsating orange glow now starting to appear in those same windows. Emory looked at the two responsible for these images and couldn't help but marvel at their control and skill in handling their endowments.

Then, inevitably, after only watching this scene for ten minutes, the fire alarm rang. A few lights flickered on higher up the school: the Bloors were up.

"Tancred…"

"I'm on it."

A sudden bolt of lightning struck the school's weather vane; the lights went out.

"Nice one."

"Thanks."

Without warning, the front doors opened and a few small dots of light that could only be torches flooded out along with their owners into the grounds.

"Now?"

"Now." Emory, Emma and Lysander nodded at each other before slipping through the school gates. They dodged the small crowd of evacuees to reach the school doors, only just overhearing Dr Bloor say to Weedon, "I believe that's everyone. Have you contacted the fire department?"

Before they could find out whether Weedon had called the fire department, the trio crept through the (imaginary) smoke now pouring out through the doors unseen. Once inside, they sped up the main staircase on their way to Dr Bloor's office. Emory felt a lot better about their mission now that Dr Bloor was guaranteed to not be in there.

On reaching the office, they were delighted to discover it had not been locked, as Dr Bloor had left in a rush. Suddenly, a thought occurred to Emory that doused her like a bucket of cold water.

"Guys," she hissed, "what if the keys are on Dr Bloor's person?" The other two stopped dead momentarily.

"Let's just pray they're not," whispered Lysander in reply, and the three of them split up to search the office.

The searching proved fruitless until Emma peered around the back of the door and found a few keys hanging on a hook there. "Found them!" she cried, and ran to get them. Several looked quite new, but there was one that looked rusty and blackened, as well as being much larger than the others.

"Is that the one?" asked Emory, and Emma nodded.

"Has to be, doesn't it?"

"Right, Lysander, you go with Emma and get Mr Yewbeam out. I'll head back down the staircase."

"Are you sure?"

"_Yes_, your job is much more important. I'll be fine. Good luck."

"Okay, good luck to you too."

"Thanks."

Lysander and Emma left with the key. Emory made sure they were gone, and then turned back into the office and rifled through the drawers. After two minutes, she found what she was looking for; several documents stating the heading: _Temporary Legal Guardianship_. On them were her name, and they were all signed by Dr Bloor. "Gotcha," she whispered.

Just as she was about to leave, she caught sight of a small, silver chest on the desk – and a thought jumped into her mind… _Wrapped in silver, it must be_…

Curiosity grabbed her by the collar and she walked over to the desk. The chest was intricately decorated with swirls, patterns and runes she didn't understand. A small bronze clasp held the lid down; she flicked it up and it opened, to reveal…

Peanuts.

She frowned. Who'd keep peanuts in a silver chest? She knew the Bloors were rich, but to go this far…

Then it hit her like a ton of bricks – peanuts, in silver – _the riddle_! This, if she was not mistaken, was the magical ingredient that would stop that guy – _Wilde_. Thinking quickly, she grabbed the box and was about to head out of the door when she heard footsteps. Several swear words bounced around her head as she scanned the room for a place to hide, finally deciding to dive underneath the desk.

Just in time too; as she put her head to the floor she noticed a pair of shoes that were definitely _not _Lysander or Emma's. She heard the person rummage around on the desk for a bit before making a swift exit back through the office door and closing it behind them.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Emory crept out from under the desk, took one last sweeping glance around the room, and opened the door. The corridor outside was empty, and taking care not to walk too quickly (lest she catch up with whoever was in the office before), she headed back towards the outside.

The fire bells had long stopped by now, but the smoke was still fogging up the entrance hall, and she could hear flames crackling and spitting in protest at the arrival of the fire brigade. She hurried out into the night, and swung round the corner back towards the gate. She hoped that Lysander and Emma managed to escape…

On approaching the gate, whispers of relief and congratulations reached her ears and she was pulled back through to be hugged by some of the group.

"Where are Emma and Lysander? Did they get out?"

"Yes," said Tancred (the storm had died down now; only Olivia remained to keep up the deception). "They got here just a few minutes before you; Charlie and the other two took him home."

"Oh, good. Oh, yes!" Emory reached into her pocket and pulled out the silver chest. "Look what I found!"

Mr Onimous peered at it, before opening the clasp. He gasped. "The riddle! This is the answer! So that means the cats were right! Oh, they're going to shun me a while for not believing them… Right, thank you Emory. I'll keep a hold of this, and you and the others get back to bed. Emory, I suggest you stay away from the Bloors tonight. Can any of you take her in?" he asked, turning to the rest of the group.

"I can," offered Gabriel.

"Very good. That's settled. But watch your back even more carefully now. You know what they're capable of, and you don't want to end up like poor Mr Yewbeam did."

"Oh, I won't. I'm quite sure of that…"

And with that, the group dispersed. Olivia let the fire die down as the firemen put it out, to keep up the pretence, but afterwards she couldn't stop giggling. As she confided to Fidelio, "I wonder what the Bloors will think when the dining hall is soaked, but with no sign of any fire damage…"

**A/N: Reviews please! (They make me write faster too :D)**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: *hiding from behind a table* So, yeah, im kind of sorry x1,000,000 for leaving you guys hanging for so long, **_**especially **_**my lovely, faithful reviewers who have stuck by Emory from the beginning up to now. I'm going to try and write another chapter in the next week to make it up to you! And as always, reviews are welcome! :D**

Emory spent the following week at the Silks' house. Although Gabriel returned to school, she didn't, and Mr and Mrs Silk were incredibly understanding of her needing a place to hide out. That week was the last one of autumn term, and Emory started to wonder about what would happen to her at Christmas. Where would she go? Who would she stay with?

Fortunately, an answer came on Friday evening. There was a knock at the door, and, as usual, Mr Silk went to check who was there. No one was sure if and when the Bloors would turn up, so they played it safe just in case.

"Gabriel, Emory!" shouted Mr Silk. "It's Fidelio!"

"Coming!"

The pair clattered down the stairs and greeted Fidelio at the door.

"Hey Emory! How's your week been? Double history hasn't been the same without you."

"Really? It hasn't?" Emory grinned, and then coughed awkwardly. "I mean, it's been nice, not having to worry about work or anything."

Fidelio laughed nervously. "Yeah, well… Manfred said to give you this…" He pulled out from behind him a large bag full of paper and text books.

"Oh…" Emory's face fell. "I'm guessing this is my Christmas present from the Bloors then?"

"Yes, I suppose it kind of is. But, that's not what I came here for." Fidelio put the bag away and smiled. "Emory, how would you like to spend Christmas at my house?"

Emory's eyes grew wide. "Really? Are you sure?" Fidelio nodded. "Is that okay?" she added, turning to Mr and Mrs Silk.

"Fine by us," they said.

"You don't mind, do you, Gabriel?" Emory asked. Gabriel pretended to look hurt, but then he grinned.

"Of course not," he said, nudging her playfully. "Actually, it'll be a relief to get you out of the house!"

"Hey!"

…

"Nyaaaaargh!" Old Ezekiel Bloor slammed his fist down on the table. Dr Bloor and Manfred flinched, but the Yewbeam sisters remained calm. "How could you allow this to happen? You were tricked, you fools! You stupid, stupid imbeciles! Now we have lost Yewbeam, and the girl, in one night! Idiots!"

Manfred desperately wanted to point out that Mr Bloor had been tricked too, but he did not dare. The man may be old and in a wheelchair, but if provoked, he could probably stand up and give the boy a thrashing if he wanted to.

"And you!" Ezekiel pointed dramatically at Eustacia, and, jowls quivering demanded, "How did you not foresee this?"

Eustacia was taken aback and placed a hand on her heart. "I am not some kind of fairground fortune-teller, to be consulted at the whim of the customer! Things are revealed to me in their own time, not mine. So don't you _dare_ blame me."

Ezekiel sneered. "Oh, do pardon me, I didn't realise you had _feelings_."

Eustacia sniffed and was about to retort but Lucretia held out her hand. "We feel for your loss as much as you. As incredibly satisfying as it was to know our brother was being locked up and starved, we realise that that situation couldn't have lasted forever. We have other means of getting to Charlie and his bratty friends, or have you forgotten our secret weapon?"

"No, no," Ezekiel muttered. "Fine. You may go. We shall bide our time over Christmas and return next year stronger than ever!"

**A/N: Dun dun duh! Sorry it's so short, but I've got another, MUCH MORE EXCITING chapter coming up shortly, so hang tight! It should also be a lot longer than this one. As always, reviews are welcome and generally they help me to write faster! *hugs***


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Okay, so this is the longer chapter to a) make up for my horrendous hiatus and b) to make up for the short "teaser chapter" I dealt you… Hope you enjoy!**

Christmas at the Gunns' flew by for Emory. As several of Fidelio's siblings decided to share rooms, she was given her own, for which she was very grateful. She very much enjoyed the noisiness of the house in comparison to her own Christmases at home; she was an only child, and although her holidays were pleasant, they lacked a certain energy that can only come from siblings. She had written to her parents and, just in time, managed to divert any gifts they would have sent to the Bloors to the Gunns' household. Although her Christmas was wonderful, it was marred slightly by the constant vigilance everyone kept; that the Bloors might show up at any minute and whisk her back to the school. But they never showed, and everyone had a great time.

Often, when Fidelio was showing Emory around their garden and the surrounding woods and fields, Mr and Mrs Gunn would nudge each other and watch. They knew what they were seeing, and finding no faults with Emory, often encouraged the two of them to spend more time with each other; they even sat them next to each other at the table.

As for Emory, she had never felt happier.

Just as it was approaching New Year, to Emory's surprise, letters arrived for her and Fidelio from Bloors Academy.

"_Dear Student,_

_You are invited to the annual Bloors Academy New Years Ball on Saturday, January 2__nd__. Formal attire will be required; please RSVP with the attached slip at the bottom by no later than December 28__th__ so we can accommodate for the caterers. _

_On behalf of all the staff here, we wish you a Happy New Year._

_Yours,_

_ Dr H Bloor._

"Well, I wasn't expecting that, were you?" Fidelio asked Emory as both stared at their letters in disbelief.

"No, I wasn't," Emory replied.

"You going to go?"

"Probably not… I doubt the Bloors have forgotten about what I did… What do you think?"

Fidelio looked thoughtful for a few moments, before he said, "I think you should go."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I mean, think about it. You'll be surrounded by us for the entire evening; I expect they'll seat us according to departments, so you'll be sat with us, and we're not going to let anything happen to you, are we? But just to make sure, I'll run it by Mum and Dad first. That is, if you still want to go?"

"I'd love to go! And you make a fair point… But I agree. We'll check with your parents first."

Mr and Mrs Gunn were a little dubious at first, but after a good half-hour of persuasion, they agreed to let Emory go to the ball.

"But make sure you keep your phones on you at all times, and call us if there's any trouble. Even if you're just suspicious of something, we'd still like to know. If you need someone there quickly, get a hold of Charlie's Uncle Paton. He can be there faster than we can."

Emory and Fidelio RSVP'd, and rang around the rest of the group to find out what they were doing. Nearly everyone else was going as well, apart from Gabriel Silk, who was away on holiday with his family.

…

The night of the ball arrived; it was a black-tie affair, and Fidelio walked down the stairs in his second-hand tuxedo (a cast off from one of his brothers).

Emory was up in her room getting ready. _The Bloors must have messaged my parents_, she thought, _otherwise there's no way they would have sent this dress_. It was midnight blue, with a shimmering over-skirt. There was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Emory called.

Mrs Gunn entered the room, and then stopped when she saw Emory. "My my," she gasped, "you look simply stunning!"

Emory blushed and looked down at the ground. "Thank you," she replied quietly.

"Going with anyone special tonight?"

Emory looked up. "No, no… We all agreed to go as a group of friends. It's more fun and less awkward that way."

"True, true… Well, if you're ready, then we'll head downstairs. Fidelio's waiting outside."

Just at that moment, Emory rushed up to Mrs Gunn and hugged her. Mrs Gunn was taken by surprise, but hugged her back.

"Thank you, Mrs Gunn," said Emory in a muffled voice.

"Whatever for, dear?"

"For looking after me this Christmas. For being a mum to me. I really miss mine."

Tears welled up in Emory's eyes, but Mrs Gunn brushed them away. "Hey," she said softly, "it's been our pleasure. Thank you for being so good and for being a friend to our Fidelio. I love Charlie very much, but it's so refreshing to have another girl around the house!"

Emory giggled, and then the two of them walked down the stairs and out into the frosty night air to the car.

Fidelio turned around just as Emory walked out of the door.

"What do you think?" she asked, and then twirled around, grinning.

"I, uh, well, you look… wonderful." Fidelio smiled.

Emory blushed again, and was grateful that it was dark enough outside that Fidelio couldn't see her properly.

"Come on, you two, get in the car!" called Mr Gunn. "We're going to be late!"

Fidelio held the door open as Emory got in, and then clambered in afterwards.

Little did they know just how exciting things were going to get, and how Emory's relationship with the Bloors was about to take a turn for the worse…

…

The car pulled up, and Mr Gunn took the opportunity to reiterate the whole 'Be careful' speech. Emory and Fidelio nodded so much they felt as though they were one of those bobbing-head dogs that sit in the back of cars.

Finally, the speech finished, and Fidelio helped Emory out into the cold night air outside the front steps of Bloors Academy. Mr Weedon was standing guard, checking student's tickets as they walked through. They passed by him without a problem, though Weedon gave them a significant look.

Once inside, there appeared to be no sign of the Bloors; students milled about in the entrance hall in dresses and tuxedos of varying colours and designs. The "no talking" rule had been relaxed for that evening, and everyone was taking great advantage of the opportunity to talk without being silenced by a watchful prefect.

Fidelio and Emory gave each other a brief smile, and started to head towards the Great Hall, when a voice came from behind them.

"Miss Adelaide, Mr Gunn… Pleased to see you could join us."

They swung around and found themselves face-to-face with none other than Dr Bloor. A smug, but very dapper-looking Manfred stood by his side.

"We missed your presence here, Miss Adelaide – are you thinking of rejoining us for the spring term?"

"Erm, yes…" Emory frowned. She was surprised that she hadn't been hauled off to Dr Bloor's office by her collar yet.

"Very good. Enjoy yourselves tonight, won't you?"

"Of course, sir," said Fidelio. He gently took Emory's arm and guided her into the Great Hall. "How weird was that?" he whispered when they had ducked inside.

"I know, right? Ugh, they still give me the creeps. Why haven't they done anything yet? I keep expecting to be whisked off any moment now and then never be seen again…"

"Hey. You'll be fine." Fidelio gripped Emory's shoulders and looked into her eyes. Emory could see the sincerity reflected there and she smiled. "See? There's Charlie. Hey, Charlie – over here!"

Slowly, the group grew as more and more people arrived. Emory was surrounded by her friends, and she began to relax. The Bloors had hired a DJ, and a glittering disco ball in the centre of the ceiling caused the room to look as if it were full of fireflies.

Eventually, Dr Bloor took to the stage with a microphone to announce the room needed to be cleared to set out dining tables, so would everyone please make their way into the entrance hall for the time being?

As the crowd slowly started to exit the hall, Emory lost track of the others. She swivelled round, but with people pressing in on her from all sides it was impossible to see anyone she knew. She felt a tap on the shoulder and spun around to find none other than Manfred standing there.

"Miss Adelaide, would you come with me to the headmaster's office? There's something for you."

"Um, uh…" Emory felt a little lost. "Could you wait one moment? I just need to find –"

"_Now_, Adelaide. We don't have all day," said Manfred impatiently. He turned and started to fight his way through the crowd back towards the stage.

Emory dithered for a few moments before deciding to follow. Charlie and the others would work out something was up when she didn't leave the hall. Besides, what could they actually do to her? She had her papers concerning guardianship, so there was nothing else they could do. _Except lock me in a dark room and chain me to a wall…_

Manfred led her out through a door at the back of the stage and through a maze of passages in silence. The gut-feeling in Emory's stomach grew worse and worse; she expected someone to jump out at her at any second, but the journey passed without incidence.

Manfred held the door open for her as she walked into Dr Bloor's office. No one else was there, but someone had lit a fire in the grate, casting flickering shadows on the walls. The lack of light did not make Emory feel any better.

"You're not in trouble, Adelaide – quit looking so worried," said Manfred, closing the door behind him. He strode over to the desk, opened a drawer and pulled out a small, neatly wrapped parcel. "Your parents must have missed this one. This came a few days before Christmas, but Weedon wasn't around to get it delivered to you. Here."

He handed Emory the box and she looked at it. It didn't seem at all suspicious; it was wrapped in the same paper as the rest of her presents had been, and when she looked at the label it was her parents' handwriting. She slowly unwrapped it to reveal a plain box; when she lifted the lid she saw two arm-length silk gloves.

"Very nice, Adelaide – your parents must love you," smirked Manfred. "Now put them on so we can get back down the party. I'm sure they won't clash too horribly with your dress."

Emory resisted the urge to roll her eyes or glare at the boy in front of her. Instead, she rested the box on the table as she took out the gloves and slipped them on. They felt wonderful, and they fitted – well, like a glove.

"They're lovely," she admitted, in order to break the silence.

"Yes, yes, very nice," snapped Manfred. "Now, out."

Emory did as she was told and started to leave, but as she did so, an almighty stabbing pain raced from her fingertips up to her elbows where the gloves ended. She fell to the floor, cradling her arms.

"Ouch!"

The pain was gone as suddenly as it had come, and Emory felt tears prick at her eyes. She could hear someone chuckling, and it took her a few seconds to realise it was Manfred. He crouched down to her level.

"Did you really _think_," he said menacingly, "that we would forget about that little stunt you pulled with Charlie's uncle, hmm? You may have your guardianship papers, but we can and will always find ways to punish those who cross us. Now, these gloves are enchanted. Rather like the clothes we put Paton in after we locked him up. And like those clothes, these gloves cancel out your endowment."

Emory's eyes grew wider and she tried to pull them off, but to no avail. They were firmly attached to her hands and arms.

"Yeah, that's not going to do you any good. But wait, it gets better!" Manfred's grin grew wider as he explained. "After the ball, those gloves will simply blend into your arms and fingers. They'll still be there, but no one will be able to see them. After all, it would look silly if you wore those gloves to school, wouldn't it? They're not a part of the uniform code…"

"You evil—"

"Ah ah ah, not finished yet. There's one final addition. If you tell _anyone _about these gloves, anyone at all, they will slowly turn you hands and arms numb, and eventually that numbness will spread to the rest of your body."

Emory's eyes widened in horror. Even she had to admit that she was well and truly beat this time.

"This isn't fair!" she cried.

"No," said Manfred, standing up. "What's not fair is Charlie Bone and his loser gang getting their way every. Single. Time. Now it's our turn to be the winning side. And you've been a _great _help. We'll be seeing you around, Emory. Now, get yourself back to the party. I expect Mr Gunn will be missing you…"

Emory blushed and got to her feet. "You won't get away with this!" _Ugh, that sounded much less corny in my head_.

"Er, I think we already have… Now _go_. See you at school, Miss Adelaide." Manfred gave her one last triumphant smirk before he ushered her out of the door.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, Emory ran. She didn't really know where she was going, but when she came across the girls' toilets she dove into a cubicle and broke down. She sobbed until no more tears would come. _Trust this to happen… this was supposed to be a magical night, but I guess that was too much to ask._

She stared at the gloves. _How did I not see this coming? _She gave them another tug, but they were well and truly attached to her.

Sighing, she left the cubicle and looked in the mirror. _I'm a mess, but I need to get back to the hall. Don't want them to start a search party…_

She tidied herself up as best she could, and splashed cold water on her face. Her red eyes she would have to pass off as an oncoming cold.

She headed slowly back to the hall, walking as if she were heading to her own funeral. How could she lie straight to the faces of those who trusted her, and who she trusted more than anyone?

Well, she was about to find out.

**A/N: Ta-dah! What do you think? I really, **_**really**_** hope this makes up for the utter mess I've made of updates… Please review and I will get the next chapter up in the next few weeks (I hope!). Cookies for all who tell me their thoughts!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"Hey Emory… What's up?" Charlie looked concerned as Emory reappeared in the Great Hall.

Emory smiled brightly. "Nothing! I'm fine."

Olivia frowned. "Are you sure? What did the Bloors want, anyway?"

"Oh, erm, they just wanted to give me some letters from my parents that didn't get to me over the Christmas holidays. I've put them in my dorm; I'll read them later."

"Hm. Fair enough." Olivia still looked suspicious, but she dropped the matter, and Emory spent the next hour dancing with everyone else, trying to forget her problems.

Midnight struck, and the hall began to empty as Mr Weedon ushered people out so he could start to clear up the mess that had been left behind. Emory walked with Fidelio into the Great Hall, but as he continued towards the doors, she stopped.

"Aren't you coming?"

Emory shook her head. "No. It's only two more days until the start of term, so I figured I may as well stay here."

"But… all your stuff!"

"I've got enough to last me here. I don't suppose you could bring the rest up another time?"

"Of course, but… Are you absolutely positive there's nothing wrong?"

Emory swallowed the lump in her throat. "Absolutely." It really, _really_ hurt to see the pained expression on Fidelio's face, but there wasn't anything she could do. "I'll see you in two days."

Fidelio gave a curt nod, but then, just as he was about to leave he changed his mind. Walking over to Emory, he pulled her into a hug. Emory, momentarily startled by this gesture, slowly relaxed and hugged him back. As they broke apart, Fidelio gave Emory a small kiss on the cheek. And then he was gone.

Emory was stunned. The doors to the school closed as the last people sauntered out, and she was left standing alone in the hall. Well, almost alone.

"Looks like you've got yourself a boyfriend, Adelaide."

"Oh, shut up, Manfred."

"_I beg you pardon_?" Manfred Bloor stood in front of her, his face contorted into an expression that said _what did you just say to me?_

"I said, shut _up_!" Emory ran. She ran away from the entrance hall, up the main staircase, along corridors and passages until she came to her dorm. She got inside, slammed the door shut and leaned against it, breathing hard. A mixture of emotions came on her at once; she felt empowered by standing up to Manfred but also frightened that he might take swift retribution; overjoyed that Fidelio had kissed her; angry about what the Bloors had done to her, and finally, she felt guilty about having to lie to everyone. Especially to Fidelio.

Too tired to even cry, Emory curled up under the bed covers, still in her dress and closed her eyes. She was sure she wouldn't be able to sleep after the day she'd had, but very quickly, her conscience shut up shop and she slept.

…

Another trying week passed for Emory. Pretending to be happy around Charlie and the others really took its toll on her and each night she flopped into bed, exhausted. But what really hurt was being around Fidelio. On Monday evening, the Gunns brought up Emory's remaining clothes and things. Emory helped them carry them up to her room, and thanked them over and over for allowing her to stay at theirs and for providing such a wonderful Christmas for her. The Mr and Mrs Gunn smiled and said that it was no problem at all, and that she would be welcome anytime.

Just before Emory left for the King's Room that evening, Fidelio had pulled her aside and asked her if she was _really _alright? Emory nodded and said she was just tired; she just needed to get back into the swing of things. Claiming she was going to be late, she left Fidelio standing in the corridor. She knew he still didn't believe her, but it's not like she could tell him anything. Manfred had been right about the gloves; when she'd woken up the next morning from the ball, they weren't there, but she could still feel a lingering sensation, as if a piece of silk had been draped over her hands and wouldn't move.

The following Saturday, Emory made her way to Dr Bloor's office. She knocked on the door and was bade to enter.

"Ah, Miss Adelaide," said Dr Bloor. "What can I do for you?"

"Please sir, may I go to the park on Moll Street? I'll only be an hour; I just want to get out of the school for a bit."

"Well, I'm afraid your record hasn't been immaculate recently… Why exactly should I believe that your not up to your old tricks with Charlie Bone and his lot?"

In response, Emory held up her hands. Although the gloves were not visible, Dr Bloor gave a nod of recognition. "Ah, so Manfred gave you the gloves, I take it? Not a bad little scheme, if I do say so myself… Very well, one hour. Don't be late."

"Thank you."

Emory left the room.

As she closed the door, Dr Bloor lay back in his chair. "Manfred."

Manfred emerged from a side door concealed by a tapestry clutching papers in his hand. "Yes, father?"

"What did you find out about Adelaide's parents?"

"They've bought up a large estate in Scotland. They're going to develop it."

"So does that mean…?"

"Yes, father. They're _rich_."

Dr Bloor chuckled. "Excellent."

…

Emory sat on the swing, scraping her shoes along the floor. The day was overcast and cold, so no one else was around. Just her. She sighed and leaned back as far as she could.

"Try not to fall off, eh?"

Emory sat up in shock. Fidelio Gunn stood in front of her, smiling. She smiled back. "I'll try not to."

"Good." He took the swing next to her. "Now. Tell me the problem."

"Look, I've told you –"

"No, you haven't. Not the real reason why you're so upset. And I don't get why? I thought we were friends. We spent Christmas together – I thought you trusted me?"

"I do! It's just, I really, _really_ can't tell you. I want to, honestly, but I literally cannot tell you. Or bad things will happen."

"Okay. Well, will it count if I guess what's wrong?"

Emory thought for a moment. "Probably not… I've never thought about it like that. Try."

Fidelio nodded. "Okay, well, you've been like this since the Ball. Since you went off with Manfred… Was it something the Bloors did? Are they behind it?"

Emory nodded.

"Well, what did they do? Did they threaten you?"

Emory nodded again.

"What did they threaten you with?"

At this moment, the invisible gloves tightened slightly around Emory's fingers. "I can't," she gasped.

Fidelio stood up abruptly and crouched down in front of her, gripping her shoulders. "It's okay," he said, "I won't guess any further. But it's enough to get started with, right? It's always the Bloors, isn't it?"

Emory smiled through her tears. "It always is."

Fidelio smiled back, then checked his watch. "I'd better get back for tea. Fancy coming with me?"

Emory stood up suddenly. "I can't. I promised the Bloors I'd be back in an hour, and I'm going to be late it I don't run!"

"Well," said Fidelio, "maybe this will give you some energy." He bent down slightly and kissed Emory on the mouth. It was short and sweet; Emory closed her eyes and smiled. "Did it work?"

"Absolutely."

"Then I'll see you around, Emory. And don't worry, we'll figure it out, I promise!"

"I know you will." Emory left the park and started to run as thunder clapped overhead and the heavens opened. Grinning through the rain, Emory didn't think she'd ever felt more elated. Not even the Bloors could dampen her spirits now.

At the doors to the school, she glanced back in the direction of the park. She'd remember today forever, she was sure of it. She opened the doors, wiping her feet just inside. Weedon got _extra _sour when people traipsed muddy footprints in the hall…

"You're late, Adelaide." Manfred stepped out from the Great Hall.

Emory looked at her watch. "Actually, I'm five minutes early."

"Enough smart talk. Weedon. Do it."

"Do what?" Emory swung around, and saw Weedon with a small sack-cloth bag. "No!" Too late. He forced it over Emory's head and suddenly all she could see was darkness. She wrinkled her nose; it smelled like onions in there. Suddenly, she could feel herself being lifted of the ground. "Hey!" she cried, "Put me down! Now!"

She could feel her hands being tied and hear the door opening. It was still raining outside as whoever was carrying her took her out into the rain.

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelp!" she screamed. But no one came to her rescue. She was about to scream again when a sharp pain coursed through her skull and she became dead to the world.

"Not the lightest girl in the world, is she?" grunted Manfred, as he and Weedon carried her into the grounds.

Cook watched them carry her towards the castle ruins. Turning to Sagittarius at her side, she said, "Mr Onimous will want to hear about this. And Paton Yewbeam. Go, now!"

The copper cat fled. Cook shook her head and sighed. "Hurry!" she whispered, and headed back to her room in the cupboard to await the arrival of the only people who could help Emory now…

**A/N: Reviews? Pretty please?**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Monday morning arrived, dreary and cold (just like it had been for the past few weeks). The buses pulled up in front of the school, and the students filed quickly into the entrance hall – no one wanted to be outside for too long.

Fidelio was one of the first to get off the bus; he was eager to find Emory so that they could talk. He strained to see her in the hall, but to no avail. He wasn't worried; it was packed in there and he would find her later, he was sure. No sign of her in assembly either, but he could always ask Charlie.

Break time, and still no Emory.

"Charlie, you haven't seen Emory today, have you?"

"Er, no, no I haven't. Why?"

Fidelio blushed. "Uh, no reason. It's just I need to talk to her, that's all."

Charlie grinned. "What, and tell her how you feel?"

Fidelio had zoned out slightly and didn't catch what he'd said. "Pardon?"

Charlie dropped the grin. "Nothing."

As the rest of the group joined up on the freezing grounds, it turned out that no one had seen her since last week.

"Did anyone see her over the weekend?" asked Tancred.

Fidelio raised his hand. "Er, I did. She was fine then, I swear." Charlie's eyebrows went up slightly, but he said nothing.

"Maybe we should ask Manfred?" suggested Olivia. "He's creepy and looks as if he knows stuff. Oh!" She gripped Emma's arm suddenly; Emma wrenched herself away as a reflex reaction but she jerked too hard and fell to the floor.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry Em!" Olivia helped her to her feet. "I just had a sudden thought. What if the Bloors have got Emory?"

Tancred snorted. "Pfft, don't be daft, 'Liv. What would they want Emory for? No offence to her or anything, but… I don't get what's so special about her for the Bloors to do something horrible…"

"Hey!" Olivia punched Tancred on the arm. "Emory's our friend, and who knows what the Bloors' motives could be?"

"Guys, slow down!" said Lysander. "Look, we don't even know if anything's _actually _happened to her. I'll go ask Manfred, and then we'll see, okay?"

"Yeah, but Manfred isn't going to tell you anything even if Emory is in trouble, is he?"

"True… But let's see what excuse he gives us."

The rest of the group watched as Lysander strolled across the grounds to where Manfred was standing on duty with Asa Pike. After an incredibly brief discussion, he headed back to the waiting group.

"Well, what did he say?" asked Fidelio.

Lysander shrugged. "He just said that Emory was ill and that she might not be back in school for a while. Mind you, he's got a very good poker face, so I genuinely couldn't tell what he was thinking."

"Ugh. I hate him. I really do."

"'Liv, keep your voice down!"

"Shan't."

…

That evening at dinner, Charlie and Fidelio were making their way through the dinner queue when they got to Cook. This was the first time they'd seen her all day, and she looked incredibly worried.

"Cook, are you alright?" whispered Charlie.

She shook her head. "No, I'm not. In fact, I think both of you boys need to find me later; after midnight. In my cupboard room. It's about Emory."

At that moment, Ideth or Inez Branko walked past (Charlie couldn't tell which) and Cook fell silent. Charlie gave her a nod to indicate he would be there, and then he and Fidelio took their trays and sat down.

Fidelio had paled considerably.

"Hey, cheer up," said Charlie. "We'll sort things out – we always do."

"I know," said Fidelio miserably. "It's just… I really like her, Charlie."

Charlie nodded, and despite knowing Emory could be in deep trouble, he couldn't help but smile to himself.

…

Midnight arrived, but neither of the boys needed waking up; the idea of Emory being held captive by the Bloors was enough to keep anyone awake. Grabbing torches and donning dressing gowns, they made their way through the winding passages towards Cook's room. There was a close moment when they heard voices; pressing themselves against the wall they watched in silence as Lucretia Yewbeam wheeled old Ezekiel Bloor back to his room. After that, the coast was clear all the way to the cupboard.

On arriving in Cook's room, they saw that they weren't the only ones there.

"Uncle Paton… Mr Onimous… What are you doing here?"

"Things are really serious, Charlie," said Cook sadly.

Fidelio was pale. He sat down in the nearest chair and clutched the armrest. "They have her, don't they?" he whispered.

"Yes." Paton nodded solemnly. "Now, there's absolutely no question that we're going to do everything in our power to get her back, but our first step is working out where she is. Unfortunately, we don't really know where to start. She could be anywhere; in the school, in the castle… they may even have taken her someplace completely different, especially after you all rescued me."

Charlie frowned. "Maybe someone saw?" he said hopefully.

"Charlie dear, no one s—"

"I did." Billy Raven stepped into the light of the crackling fire. Looking sheepishly at everyone, he added, "Sorry – I was awake when Fidelio and Charlie left the dorm and I followed; it's just, Emory was so nice to me when we first met and I have to help her somehow!"

Paton leaned forward. "Tell us Billy; where is she?"

"I was looking out the window at the grounds the other day when I saw Emory come back from somewhere – I overheard Asa mention something to Matron about the park… Anyway, I saw her walk into the Great Hall, then just a few minutes later I saw Manfred and Mr Weedon carry a person-sized sack into the ruins of the castle. After that it was too misty to see. I'm sorry."

Paton stood up and wrung Billy's hand. "No, my dear boy, that's excellent! That narrows down our search-field significantly. Mr Onimous," he said, turning to the mouse-man, "any idea where she might be within the walls?"

Mr Onimous thought for a few moments. The fire continued to burn merrily in the grate, and the kettle began to whistle. "There's a possibility," he said slowly, "that she may be in the Labyrinth Mortel – it is said that Borlath, or one of his descendents created a horribly confusing maze within the castle walls that would cause any victims left there to die either of madness or starvation – none of them ever found their way out. If that's where she is, then it's going to be terribly tricky to get her out…"

"_Labyrinth Mortel? _Hmmph, sounds about right to me," said Cook. "Poor girl. What can we do?"

"_This _is what we're going to do," said Paton, leaning forward. "Listen closely…"

**A/N: Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry to the power of about a million. It's been so long, thank you for being so patient! I actually intend to finish this story in the next few days, so pay close attention! Thank you for your faithfulness and patience with me in this; it's been a long journey but there is a light at the end of the tunnel! Keep your eyes peeled for the next instalment, and as always, comments are apprectiated! I love you all. x **


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: It's here! It's the end! I've done it! We've done it! The last chapter in my story. And congratulations if you're reading this. Whether you've been with me since the beginning in 2010, or whether you've just jumped on the bandwagon, thank you for giving me a read and a chance. I love writing and fanfiction has been the ultimate stepping stone into the writing world. Much love goes out to everyone who's reviewed, favourited or followed the story, and special thanks to Ivy Devi who has not stopped supporting me.**

**Thank you. And, for the last time, I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

**Chapter 18**

It was Friday night. Everyone was home. It had killed Fidelio and Charlie to wait so long, but everyone agreed that it would seem less suspicious if they waited, and also it meant they were out of sight of the Bloors.

Fidelio made his way down Frog Street. Only one shop was still lit; The Pets' Café. No bouncer outside, but Tancred was keeping watch in the window. He nodded solemnly to Fidelio and opened the door for him.

Fidelio nodded back and headed to the backroom whilst Tancred locked the door before following.

Inside, despite a cheery fire blazing in the hearth, the atmosphere was tense. Everyone seemed to be downcast, apart from Paton and Charlie, who knew the full details of the plan and were sure it would work.

Mrs Onimous looked up as Fidelio entered the room. She smiled as she said, "Cup of tea, dear?" He politely declined and took a seat.

Paton stood up and leaned over the table, addressing everyone. "Right, this is it. If anyone wants to back out now I completely understand; but know that every single one of you has a part to play, and things will go much more smoothly if you are with us. Does anyone wish to leave now?"

No one said a word, but Fidelio raised his hand.

"Excuse me, Mr Yewbeam, sir, but you haven't told me what I'm meant to be doing…"

Paton sighed and looked at the floor. "Fidelio… I want you to be at home. By the phone. You're our back-up in case something goes wrong."

"What? You mean, I'm not coming with you?"

Paton looked up. "No," he said, "but your role in this is equally as impo—"

"No it's not!" Fidelio cut in. "It's because I'm not endowed, isn't it? I'm just an extra casualty – 'Don't let Fidelio get involved, he might get hurt, and he hasn't got himself an endowment to pull himself out of trouble'… Well, you know what? Emory means more to me than all of you!" He stood up and walked to the door. Quieter now, he added, "I will go home. And wait by the phone. But if she doesn't come back safely…" He didn't need to finish the sentence. Before the others could stop him, he'd gone.

A few moments of awkward silence were broken by Olivia. "Well, that could've been worse, right?"

"_How_?" asked Lysander.

Olivia shrugged. "I dunno. He could've insisted he go with us."

"Okay, okay," said Paton, attempting to bring the group back to focus. "Are we all ready?"

Everyone nodded.

"Charlie, are you sure you don't want to go after Fidelio?"

Charlie looked at his uncle. "Let's just make sure we bring her back in one piece, yeah?"

…

The grounds of Bloors Academy were dark when the group arrived. Apart from the odd hoot of an owl or the rustling of a rabbit in the bushes, everything was silent. No lights shone in the window except for the attic, where, presumed Charlie, Ezekiel Bloor sat up every night plotting his next scheme. He was unlikely to look out of the window for inspiration. Without torches (and with a fair bit of difficulty) they made it to the castle ruins, and the start of the maze.

Paton nodded at Emma, who ran behind a nearby tree. Suddenly, there was the fluttering of wings, and a dark, owl-shaped shadow flew through the sky, only visible by moonlight. She swooped up to the attic window, taking care not to be seen. Then it was back down to the ground, holding an oak leaf in her beak – a sign that they were unlikely to be disturbed. A collective sigh of relief, and then into the maze. Unfortunately, Emma neglected a small window on the top floor, from which a small candle gave off a small ball of light. Edgar Savage sat on the window seat, intrigued and curious as he watched Charlie and everyone else enter the ruins of the castle. He blew out the candle and headed to find his torch. _Manfred will be pleased_…

The maze floor continued to slope, and soon a thick stone roof became apparent above their heads. Emma, being the only creature with night vision, found small running gaps between the walls of the maze and the roof, so she flew between passages, searching left, right and centre for Emory.

It took a while, but within half an hour, the room was found. As the searching party approached, they heard a voice.

"Who's there? You said you weren't coming back for two more days, what's going on? You can't keep me here forever!"

Charlie laughed. "Emory, it's us!" he whispered.

"Charlie? Is that you? How did you find me?"

With one strong gust of wind from Tancred, the door blew in. Emory was sat in a small, draughty room lit by a single, dim light bulb. She stood up as everyone entered.

"We found you," said Paton. "This, Emory, is a rescue mission. I'm returning the favour." He smiled, and Emory smiled back.

Suddenly, the light went out.

"Emory, was that you?" asked Gabriel.

"No… I have these—_ow!_ I can't… I have no – _ouch!_ power… And Manfred only changed the bulb yesterday…"

"Okay, so if it's not you… Regardless, we all need to get out here…"

"Agreed," said Emory. "How?"

"Right," said Mr Onimous, "everyone grab a hand. Emma will lead us out, I'm sure."

An affirmative hoot proved Mr Onimous right, and everyone started to grope in the darkness for a hand to hold.

There was a sudden yell from Gabriel, who had found Emory's hand. Pain shot through him like knives and fire and ice all at once. He fell to the ground.

"Gabriel, what's wrong?"

Gabriel managed to detach himself before gasping, "It's her hands… Emory's hands – there's something on them I can't bear to touch, I don't know…"

"Emory, what's the problem?"

"I can't… I have – Manfred gave – argh! I can't t-tell you…"

Charlie thought for a moment. "Hang on… That night, at the ball – what did Manfred give you?"

"A present – he said it was from my parents."

"Gloves!" gasped Gabriel.

"Can you take them off?"

"I couldn't feel them before, when I held her hand –"

"They're back!" exclaimed Emory. "They went invisible before, but I guess because you figured them out, they've reappeared! I can feel them again…"

"Here," said Gabriel, getting up. "Let me try."

With a few gasps and ejaculations of pain, he succeeded in removing the gloves, and then threw them straight into the room where Emory had been.

Suddenly, the light flickered back on, and everyone could see Emory grinning like the Chesire Cat. "That _was_ me," she said. "Those gloves stopped me from using my endowment. Now let's get out of here, please…"

"Of course!" said Mr Onimous. "Onwards and upwards!" A hoot from Emma, and they started to make their gradual ascent out of the maze to the grounds – and freedom.

After what must have been an hour, they could feel fresh air on their faces. The night breeze felt good, but then the good feelings went away. Silhouetted against the entrance to the maze were two unmistakable shapes: Manfred Bloor and Edgar Savage.

"Going somewhere?" Manfred asked.

Tancred and Lysander ran to the front of the group and started to work up their endowments, but after a few moments they realised that nothing was happening. They looked at each other in confusion as a deep, throaty chuckle came from Edgar.

"Oh dear me," said Manfred mockingly. "Can't frighten us off with your little ancestors, or your stupid storms? What a shame. Edgar, get Emory."

Paton rushed forward, but one solid punch in the face from Edgar and he was out cold.

"Who wants to try next?"

"I do!"

Emory looked up. _That's Fidelio's voice!_

Fidelio rushed up, and pushing past Manfred he threw what appeared to be the silver box from Dr Bloor's studyto Charlie, who fortunately had his wits about him and caught the box.

"Where did you get that?" demanded Manfred.

"Open it, Charlie!" shouted Fidelio.

Charlie did as he was told, and revealed… _peanuts_. Looking up, he saw Edgar visibly blanch. Then the dots connected in his head. He took a handful of the nuts and threw them in Edgar's direction. Even in the moonlight, the others could see that a visible change had come over the Savage boy.

He was pale, but even then, dark patches began to appear on his face. He was blotching up; and swelling up too, by the looks of things.

"He's allergic," said Fidelio triumphantly. "You know the riddle? _A food source, nut and pea _– it fits! It was about Edgar! Worked it out while I was _sat at home_," he added, with a significant look to Paton who suddenly became quite sheepish.

"Yeah, about that," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Guys, look!" said Olivia.

Manfred was backing away with Edgar, who was getting worse and worse by the second. Suddenly, the breeze picked up and was becoming a wind. A sudden bolt of lightning across the sky… A distant drumming could be heard…

"Your endowments – they're back!" shouted Emory.

In full confidence now, Tancred and Lysander began their work. Within moments, a full-blown storm was in force, and the drumming grew ever louder.

Manfred bolted, and Edgar limped after him.

"We did it!" shrieked Olivia. The storm began to die down, and the drumming faded, until nothing could be heard in the still air, apart from the odd owl.

"Let's get out of here," murmured Mr Onimous. "I don't know about you, but I could do with a nice cup of tea. Anyone care to join me?"

There were nods of approval from everyone ("If you make mine a hot chocolate, I'm there!" said Olivia) and they slowly left the grounds and made their way back to Pets' Café.

"We did it," said Fidelio to Emory, as he fell in beside her.

"No – _you_ did it," she replied, smiling. "Thank you, for, you know, saving me."

"Anytime," said Fidelio with a grin. Turning more serious, he asked, "Are you okay? Did they hurt you? What was that all about anyway?"

Emory snorted. "I'm fine. The Bloors discovered my parents own a fair bit of money. They thought they could ransom me or something like that. I'm not entirely sure what they planned to do, but the important thing is, their plan failed."

"Yes," agreed Fidelio. The pair were at the back of the group, and they stopped as the others continued on.

Taking both of her hands in his, Fidelio turned to Emory. Unbeknownst to the others, they shared yet another kiss in the dark streets of the city.

…

"You're leaving? _Today?_ Why?"

It was a few days later. Bloors Academy had announced an impromptu holiday to deal with "family affairs", and Charlie had called everyone to meet in the park.

Emory was one of the last to arrive, and she looked pretty downcast. When asked what the problem was, she told them that she was going to leave Bloors Academy. Tonight.

"But, why?" asked Olivia. "We stopped the Bloors (again), and you're alright – why do you have to go?"

"My parents don't know _everything _that happened – but they got the gist of things… The Bloors are unsavoury people, and they don't want me around them anymore. They were even threatening to sue them, but I convinced them otherwise. Too much drama, trust me."

"So… does that mean we're not going to see you again?" asked Charlie.

"I'll be back for visits! There is no way I could ever forget you, or the amazing and not-so-amazing things that happened to me this year… You guys are the best thing that ever happened to me, and I'm so glad my parents decided to send me here. I will be expecting phone calls!"

Everyone smiled and agreed that they would all keep in touch.

But Fidelio still looked upset.

Lysander coughed. "Well… why don't we all play football on the field – I'll race you all!" Fortunately, everyone understood his meaning and raced onto the field, except for Olivia, who said she didn't want to play football and had to be dragged from the swings.

Fidelio watched them all go and shook his head. "Nutters," he said quietly.

"Hey," said Emory softly. "I'm sorry." She took his hand and squeezed it gently. Fidelio squeezed back. "You're coming to my place for Christmas next year."

Fidelio smiled. "Agreed."

Suddenly, a car horn honked in the distance. Emory glanced up, startled. "That's my ride," she said. "I have to go."

"Promise me we'll see each other before Christmas," said Fidelio. "I can't wait _that_ long."

"I promise," replied Emory and pulled him into a hug. When she let go, she gave him one last kiss on the cheek. "Don't forget me."

"Never."

Everyone came rushing over from the field to give their hugs and say their goodbyes.

"Just one more thing before I go… Charlie Bone, do you have this much adventure every year?"

Charlie grinned as he looked at everyone else. "Yep. Can't help it."

"Didn't think you could." She ran towards the car.

As it pulled away, Emory waved until she could no longer see the park. Settling back into her seat, she promised herself she'd be back one day. Some might argue that that year contained enough adventure to last a lifetime. _But_ _then_, she reasoned, _it was only a year. I still have a lifetime to go._

**A/N: I DID IT I DID IT I DID IT! Phew! I really enjoyed myself with this, and I hope you've enjoyed it too. This is the longest fanfic I have ever written. And once again, a massive thank you for all the support and encouragement to get this finished, almost three years after I first posted it! You are all amazing people. If anyone didn't understand anything, or I've missed out an important plot point, etc, feel free to review or PM me with your questions.**

**You are all awesome, and my story here is done.**

**milkshake x **


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